Love Never Fails
by Frosty858
Summary: Set two years after the events of Frozen. Anna & Kristoff are happily married, and Elsa has led Arendelle into a golden age of peace and prosperity. But Happily Ever After is torn asunder, when Elsa learns she must marry Hans in order to prevent war. She willingly submits, believing that a loveless marriage is simply her destiny. After all, who could ever love the Snow Queen?
1. Spiders and Sisters

**Welcome to my newest story! Another Revenge of Hans tale, set approximately two and a half years after the Great Thaw. There will be some similarities to Playing Dirty, but Hans will not be redeemed, amongst other things.**

 **Please read and review if you are interested! All opinions are welcome. That way, I know whether I should continue.**

 **Chapter 1:**

For the first time since she was eight years old, Elsa was truly at peace.

The young monarch was seated at the desk of her study, plowing through a formidable stack of paperwork. A neat pile of parchment sat under one elbow. It was a plan for expanding Arendelle's system of higher education, which she had been working on for quite a long time, and was rather proud of how it had turned out. Her goal was to boost literacy to one hundred percent. To give every citizen, regardless of socioeconomic status, a chance at attending university. To promote research in the arts and sciences, and create a culture of innovation and intellectual curiosity. Tomorrow she would meet with the council to discuss the finer details of its logistics and implications.

It was late November, and the air was filled with the sweet fragrance of natural snow. A light dusting of fresh powder was continuously drifting down from the sky above. Her eyes filled with pride and affection, as she gazed out the window across the beautiful, blessed land entrusted to her care. Arendelle was a nation full of hearty, resilient, hardworking people whom she was proud to serve.

This was no time for daydreaming. Elsa glanced back down at the enormous pile of documents, and her lips parted in a smile. "I don't _have_ to do this. I _get_ to do this," she reminded herself. Her heart was kind, her judgment shrewd, and her sense of responsibility indefatigable. But taking care of a kingdom required a tremendous amount of hard work and dedication. At least two or three times a month, she would be confined to her study from the break of dawn until past midnight, toiling ceaselessly for more than twenty-four consecutive hours, with hardly any time for meals.

But she wouldn't have it any other way. Every late-night session in her study was time and labor well spent, if she could make Arendelle a better, safer, more comfortable place for all citizens. Taking care of the people and the country she loved. Fulfilling the oath she took to herself, her father, and God.

No matter how difficult and laborious the job could be, she always had Anna there to keep things fun and lighthearted. No day was so terrible, it could not be fixed by ten minutes spent with her dear sister.

It was Anna's kind heart, warm smile, and open arms that helped them both overcome the pain of the past. Sometimes Elsa still had difficulty fathoming how they had ever managed to survive thirteen years without each other. But they did. And now those dark, miserable days were forever relegated to the footnotes of history.

Elsa reached for an ink bottle and slowly unscrewed the lid. From out the corner of one eye, she caught subtle blur of motion. The ink appeared to take on a life of its own. Instinctively, she jumped at the odd apparition. But soon her rational perspective settled back in. It must have been a figment of her imagination. Elsa shrugged and returned to her work, thinking nothing more of it.

Until an enormous black spider came crawling out of the ink bottle.

For a few tense seconds, Elsa sat wide-eyed and utterly petrified with fear. The spider began to crawl. Its thick, black, hairy limbs twisted and wiggled in a most grotesque fashion, as it skittered across the sheets of parchment. Finally, she broke out of her catatonic state.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" Elsa took a furious swipe at the ink bottle, knocking it straight through the window. She paid no heed to the enormous mess of viscous black liquid and glass fragments that now littered her entire desk area. In a clumsy, precipitate motion, Elsa shot several meters into the air, knocking her chair to the floor with a noisy clatter. Tripping and stumbling, she bolted across the room in a single leap, screaming hysterically. "HELP! HELP! MURDER!" Her terrified shrieks reverberated violently throughout the entire castle, loud enough to bring down the North Mountain.

Two guards burst into the room, eyes narrowed and hands raised defensively. But before they could even begin to size up the situation, Elsa flung herself at the taller man, wrapping both arms tightly around his neck. Her limbs thrashed about as she desperately attempted to climb on top of his head. The guard cringed awkwardly when her breasts collided repeatedly against his face. "Don't just stand there! Do something!"

The second man eyed her strangely. "Your Majesty, I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Kill it!" Elsa screamed. Her face was red and blotchy, and her hair was completely disheveled. "Don't let it get me!"

From down the hall, Anna's voice began singing a derisive tune. "Elsa's scared of a spider, Elsa's scared of a spider!"

Before the guards could voice their confusion, Kai entered the room. The portly red-haired man had worked in the castle since the early years of Adgar's reign, and understood the two royal sisters better than anyone. He quickly took Elsa by the hand and pulled her into his arms, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Elsa continued to convulse and sob uncontrollably, saturating his jacket with icy tears. Kai's face was red and his body trembled from exertion, as he desperately attempted to quell an explosion of laughter. "It's all right, snowflake. You're safe now. It's only a spider." He planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Spider?" One of the guards repeated incredulously. "That's what this is all about?"

The other guard nodded. "I thought there was an armed intruder in the castle!"

Finally, they could hold it in no longer. Both men burst into a fit of giggles. Loud, resounding bellows of mirth that exploded from their lungs and echoed through the halls. Embarrassed, the guards bowed awkwardly and dismissed themselves, continuing to laugh frenziedly. Kai tried to maintain a sympathetic demeanor, but he too was unable to hold back his snorts of laughter.

"Stop laughing!" Elsa screamed furiously, through a fit of sniffles and hiccups. "It's not funny! I thought I was going to die!"

As Elsa began to calm down, Anna danced through the doorway. "Elsa's scared of a spider! Elsa's scared of a spider!" Her jocular expression quickly evolved into empathy and concern, when she beheld her sister's distraught state. "Elsa, are you all right? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it that far!"

Elsa cracked a grin. "You're the worst sister ever." Then she sighed. "Maybe this prank war wasn't such a great idea…"

Anna laughed. "You're right. It was a terrible idea… for YOU! We all know I'm gonna win this! Then I get all your desserts for a month!"

"Yeah right. I'll kick your ass to the moon and back!"

"How are you gonna prank me back, huh? By doing math problems at me?"

Elsa grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the sniggering redhead, and Anna immediately returned fire. The girls squealed with laughter as they tumbled to the floor, wrestling playfully, bombarding each other with pillows, blankets, and whatever else they could find. But Anna being an outdoorsy tomboy was much stronger than her scholarly, ladylike sister. Before long, the blonde found herself getting beaten senseless by an enormous barrage of pillows. The air was thick with scattered feathers.

Kai cleared his throat. "Girls, enough! This is getting way too violent." But the sisters paid no heed.

A puff of snow exploded harmlessly against Anna's face, causing the princess to recoil. Elsa saw her chance. She quickly wrenched free and jumped out of range. The blonde chuckled to herself. "Frosty always wins!" Elsa climbed onto a teetering bookshelf with five or six pillows in hand, and took a diving leap at her distracted sister. Anna nimbly stepped aside, and Elsa crashed resoundingly into the coffee table.

The loud splintering of wood and a shrill cry of pain instantly brought their little game to a standstill. Elsa lay slumped on the floor, writhing in pain as she clutched at the dark purple bruise that was forming under one eye.

* * *

Doctor Brian Helmholtz was sitting hunched over his desk, flipping through a folder of medical records. He was a handsome man in his early thirties, entering his sixth year as Arendelle's royal physician. His youth did little to detract from his tremendous skill and talent. Dr. Helmholtz matriculated in university at the tender age of fifteen, and finished at the top of his class year after year, ultimately graduating with highest honors.

In spite of his achievements, he was a mild-mannered and polite individual. Although he was very taciturn about the deeper and more intimate aspects of his personal life, he never failed to be cordial and compassionate with those he worked with. There was an engaging affability about him, and a surprising lack of arrogance. He possessed none of the haughtiness that was typically associated with intellectuals.

Dr. Helmholtz was jotting down some notes, when the two royal sisters came barreling in the door. He smiled at Anna. "Back so soon, Princess? Did you go biking on the rooftops again?" At least once a week, Anna would visit him with injuries begotten under the most unimaginably ridiculous circumstances. Joking and teasing had become a part of their routine.

Anna grinned broadly and shook her head. "Nope! Actually, it's this stinker who needs medical attention today!" She prodded Elsa forward.

"Congratulations, Princess. You are no longer the only clumsy person around." Dr. Helmholtz immediately set down his paperwork and bowed deeply to the Snow Queen. "Your Majesty, how may I be of service to you?"

Elsa smiled and gestured for him to stand. "Please, just call me Elsa. I'm here today because _someone_ thought it would be funny to body-slam me into a table, and smash my delicate face into a million bloody pieces."

"She's lying!" Anna feigned indignation. "I body-slammed you? Last time I checked, you jumped into the table yourself, because you're too fat and out of shape!"

Elsa rolled her eyes playfully. "Me? Fat and out of shape? Your hips are like ten feet wide!"

"At least I'm not scared of spiders!" Anna blew a raspberry and began to sing. "Itsy bitsy spider, climbed into Elsa's hair! And then Elsa cried, and pissed her underwear! Out came the ice, and froze up all the pee. And the itsy bitsy spider—"

Anna instantly froze and fell silent as she found herself face-to-face with an army of ice-spiders, each the size of a large dog. Elsa grinned and rubbed her hands gleefully. "Get her!" she commanded.

The redhead rolled around the floor, convulsing with laughter and snorting uncontrollably as she desperately tried to bat the spiders back. "Elsa, you cheater! That's so not fair!"

Dr. Helmholtz smiled awkwardly. Who would've thought that Queen Elsa could be so childish? He never would've expected this behavior from her, and thought it best to refrain from commenting, but it was adorable nonetheless.

As the laughter abated and both girls began to calm down, he motioned for Elsa to take a seat on the exam table. Her right cheek was badly bruised and swollen, sporting a hematoma roughly the size of a human fist. Ugly patches of red and burgundy stained her ivory skin, revealing blood clots and ruptured arteries. He asked some questions and performed a series of diagnostics to test her vision, hearing, and jaw movement on the affected side.

"It's only a contusion," he finally concluded, bandaging up the affected area. "Just apply plenty of ice and take care not to aggravate the injury with any more horseplay." The doctor grinned quirkily, his aqua eyes twinkling with mischief. "If anyone asks, you got into a fight with a bear, and the bear learned not to mess with the Snow Queen. Otherwise it'll be your reputation that needs medical attention."

Elsa smiled and thanked the doctor, before bidding him farewell. Anna followed close behind.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Anna gushed, as soon as they were out of earshot. "I think he likes you!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Elsa chuckled. "He was just being nice."

Anna snorted incredulously. "Just being nice? He didn't joke with me to that extent, until at least the tenth time I visited him!"

Elsa sighed. "I will concede one point. He does have an amazing sense of humor, and he really knows how to put people at ease." The girls continued laughing and joking as they made their way into the castle gardens, for a much-needed snowball fight.

* * *

Hans swallowed nervously as he was led out of the dungeons and into the light of day, for the first time since his imprisonment nearly two-and-a-half years ago. King Henrik of the Southern Isles, his eldest brother, had requested an audience with him. Hans was utterly bewildered. What could this possibly be about? A plethora of horrifying images flashed through his mind. Henrik was not a merciful person.

His mind continued racing as he ascended one cold, drafty staircase after another. The guards' faces were stern and expressionless as they prodded him sharply in the back. "Move it, scum. We haven't got all day."

Finally, they arrived at the throne room, where his brother sat waiting at the end of a large rectangular table. "The prisoner, Your Majesty." The guards curtly bowed and dismissed themselves.

King Henrik of the Southern Isles was a most imposing man. In his mid-forties, his auburn hair was intermittently streaked with gray. He had the same hazel eyes and facial structure as his youngest brother, except his jaw was slightly thicker and he sported a full beard. Henrik was a few inches taller than Hans and more heavily built. But portraits depicting the two brothers in their childhood and adolescent years were virtually indistinguishable.

Hans finally broke the silence. "You summoned me, brother?" he ventured timorously. His voice was raw and scratchy from lack of use.

"Brother?" Henrik snapped incredulously. "It's _Your Majesty_ to you!" Hans shrank back, feeling like a small child being scolded. The thirteenth prince had always prided himself in being able to maneuver his way out of any sticky situation. But there was an offhanded authority in Henrik's voice and demeanor, which never failed to intimidate him. No matter how confident and swaggering he was around anyone else, Henrik could always reduce him into a quivering wreck.

Henrik glared straight into his soul with those piercing green eyes. "Hans, you had one job. Arendelle was ours for the taking! And you were defeated by a talking snowman and a silly little girl with the brain capacity of a garden snail!"

Those words stung. That stark reminder of his failure felt like an arrow straight to the heart. He had lost his freedom, his dignity, and his status as a Prince. Meanwhile, the witch and her stupid brat of a sister were happily enjoying their lives in a beautiful, prosperous kingdom full of adoring subjects. Hans feebly opened his mouth to defend himself, but not a sound came out.

Henrik continued, "Hans, did you honestly think people would accept your word that Princess Anna was dead, without bothering to go check on her? Did you not know that marriage vows carry no legal validity in the absence of witnesses? Most importantly, could you not be bothered to at least make sure she was dead, before telling everyone that she was? It would've taken less than a minute to smother her with a pillow. If you'd taken these simple precautions, Arendelle would be ours."

 _Tell me something I don't already know,_ Hans thought bitterly. _You've spent the past two and a half years reminding me what a failure I am._

Henrik produced a dagger and slid its steely edge neatly across the younger man's cheek, unleashing a trickle of blood. Hans grimaced and his eyes watered, but not a sound escaped his lips. " _This_ is your punishment for failing."

 _Two years in the dungeons isn't punishment?_ Hans cursed silently. But he dared not speak unless spoken to. Hans had learned at a very young age to refrain from voicing any opinions, and to be as submissive and unassuming as possible in the presence of his eldest brother.

When Henrik inherited the throne twelve years ago, he immediately undertook drastic measures to protect himself from usurpers. To establish himself as a man who would not be trifled with. Shortly into his reign, word had spread that the second and third Princes of the Southern Isles were staging an overthrow. Henrik wasted no time in getting to the bottom of things, taking mere days to deconstruct the plans they had spent months formulating. The two men were promptly castrated and had their thumbs forcibly severed. No one ever dared to plot against him again.

Henrik's malevolent expression softened slightly, as he tossed a small leather pouch full of coins at Hans' feet. "And this is a token of my gratitude. For it turns out that your abject failure did in fact produce some advantageous consequences, however unintentional. Thanks to your idiocy, our eyes have been opened… to the true riches of Arendelle. There is much more than a silly trade alliance to be gained through a takeover."

Hans could only stare at him in confusion. Henrik slammed his fists on the table. "Idiot! Don't you realize what we could become if we were to have the witch under our control? If we could harness her abilities as a weapon of war? Other nations would keel over and surrender without putting up the least bit of resistance! We could have the world at our feet!"

Hans found his voice again. "How do you plan on getting the witch under your control?"

Henrik poured himself a glass of wine. "I am aware that you were once engaged to Princess Anna of Arendelle. Is this true?"

Hans shrugged cavalierly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Henrik's eyes blazed with fury, as he drew his dagger and thrust it straight at Hans' face, stopping inches short of his chin. "Answer the question!"

Terrified, Hans nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! I was in fact engaged to her."

"Correction. You _are_." Henrik grinned wickedly and took another sip of wine. "Now tell me, my dear little brother, how much do you know about marital law? Or more specifically, the logistics of divorce and annulment?"

 **Thank you for reading! More to come…**


	2. Chocolate Allergies

**To my Guest reviewers, unfortunately I cannot respond to you via PM. But I want to thank each of you for reading and giving valuable feedback! Although Hans won't be finding redemption in this story, the general themes of love, repentance, forgiveness, etc. will still be quite prevalent.**

 **Later on Hans will have several chances to turn around and amend his ways, but unfortunately, he won't do it.**

 **July 30, 2016. In light of my newfound faith and moral sensitivity in this past year, edits have been made to this chapter, to eliminate the profanity and "Hans humor" that was so pervasive in my prior writings. **

**Chapter 2:**

"I don't understand," Anna protested, as she sneezed and sniffled for the umpteenth time. "The only thing I'm allergic to is pollen. But there's no pollen in the air at this time of the year."

Elsa patted her comfortably on the back, biting back a grin. "Relax, sis. I'm sure it's nothing." Over the past few days, Elsa had taken the liberty of surreptitiously sprinkling trace amounts of pollen around the castle. She made sure to keep the dosage miniscule, so that Anna would only experience mild discomfort at best. "How much longer, Dr. Helmholtz?"

The physician smiled back. "Just another minute. Let me re-examine these samples for false positives."

Several tense seconds ticked by, before Dr. Helmholtz turned to address the royal sisters. "Princess Anna, are you absolutely sure you haven't come in contact with pollen in the past twenty-four hours?" Anna shook her head.

 _Oh yes you have,_ Elsa thought smugly.

The doctor rubbed his temple and emitted a low, somber sigh. "Your Highness, it appears that you are developing an allergic reaction to chocolate."

"Impossible!" Anna shouted. "I've eaten chocolate my whole life, and nothing has ever happened!"

"Well, it's called choco _late_ for a reason." Dr. Helmholtz choked back a snort of laughter and forced himself to assume a calm, professional demeanor. "It's rare, but people do develop allergies during adolescence or early adulthood. This usually happens when the patient withdraws from a certain food or drink over a long period of time, and they lose the ability to digest it. But your case is the opposite. It appears you have been exposed to such a large excess of chocolate over the years, your body has a massive surplus of chocolate-digesting enzymes."

"I'm afraid I'll have to prescribe you a medicine to suppress the allergy. You've eaten so much chocolate that the chocolate is now eating you. Except you probably don't taste very good."

"Yeah, I bet you taste like a stinker," Elsa giggled. "Because you are one!"

"Shut it!" Anna glared at her sister. "If I have to take the medicine, then so does Elsa! She eats just as much chocolate, so it's only fair!"

"But Anna, I'm not the one with a chocolate allergy. Fair and equal are not the same thing," Elsa explained calmly. She gave Anna's hand a gentle squeeze. "Cheer up, sis. Things aren't really that bad. As long as you take the medicine, you can still eat all the chocolate you want. I'm sure it won't be _that_ disgusting." She shot Dr. Helmholtz a wink that Anna couldn't see.

The doctor handed Anna a small glass bottle full of viscous greenish-brown sludge. "Take one spoonful before every meal. The symptoms should go into complete remission in three days."

Anna wanted to vomit at the sight of the vile concoction. If she looked closely, she could see tiny particles suspended in the liquid. A thin layer of murky supernatant hovered above the feces-like layer of solid slime. Her stomach twisted and churned at the prospect of swallowing this colloidal monstrosity.

But she was also facing the prospect of a chocolate-free diet, and there was nothing she wouldn't endure to escape that fate. The sisters thanked Dr. Helmholtz and left the infirmary hand in hand.

 _Perfect,_ Elsa cheered silently. _The stinker won't even know what hit her. Now all that's left is to get rid of the pollen._ _I'm sorry Anna, but I believe I have just won the prank war._

* * *

Henrik lazed back in his heavy oaken chair, with a condescending smirk plastered across his face. "You still interested in becoming King of Arendelle? Still want revenge on the witch and her stupid brat of a sister?"

Hans ground his teeth in frustration. "If only I could!" He slammed his foot into the table leg, but instantly uttered a rapid string of expletives as pain tore through his body.

"That's where you're wrong, little brother. Take a look at this." Henrik brought out a thick, heavy book and thumbed through the frayed sheets of yellow parchment. "According to Article Twelve, Section Twenty-eight of European Family Law, your engagement to Princess Anna of Arendelle is in fact legally binding. Your professions of love and intent on marriage were declared in the presence of more than a dozen reputable witnesses. Unless this engagement is fulfilled, we have the standing to declare war. We would be the aggrieved party, and Arendelle would be in the wrong. So you see, my dear brother, it turns out that some good has been wrought by your incompetence two years ago. Your engagement to Princess Anna gives us a foot in the door."

Hans raised his eyebrows. "How does marrying Anna make me King of Arendelle? Unless I find some way to kill off Elsa? Then what happens to your plan to enslave the witch? I really don't see your logic here."

Henrik emitted a low, impatient growl. "Hans! Are you really this dense? Read the fine print!" The King of the Southern Isles plowed through several pages and vigorously jabbed a finger at the corresponding line of text. "If a marriage is promised, a marriage there must be. _Any bride from the same bloodline_ would suffice. Your past indiscretions don't alter the fact that this agreement must be fulfilled. _That_ is our loophole! The only way the witch can save her sister's happy marriage is by offering herself to you in replacement, and I can guarantee that this will be her course of action. Take that to the bank."

Henrik took a swig of champagne. "Even to this day, Elsa still believes it's her fault that they both grew up in isolation. She would do anything to make Anna happy—including marry you in her place. And this is why a woman has no business ruling a kingdom. They value compassion over practicality. The witch may be the cleverest person in all of Europe, but she will always put her emotions first. You marry her, you become King of Arendelle."

"And I plan to have a LOT of fun with that!" Hans gleefully interrupted.

"Yes, that's certainly one of the perks of the job." Henrik chuckled in agreement. Then he became somber again. "But Hans, I know you well enough to suspect that you will get sidetracked. You still think and act like a teenager. Something tells me that you care more about having fun with your new role as King, than you do about our political aspirations. Convince me that you can stop perseverating on your base urges, and worry about the more important issues."

Hans shook his head vigorously. "No, no! I promise that this isn't the case at all. I will not let you down."

"Yes, you'd better not let me down… _again_." Henrik's low, menacing voice chilled Hans to the core. "Pay attention, now. Marrying the witch would put you in the unique position of having legal authority over her. Let that sink in. You will have authority over the witch. A wife must obey her husband in all matters pertaining to their private man with the slightest sliver of ambition in his body would die to have that sort of leverage."

Hans paused to absorb this information. "So my job is to marry the witch, then break her spirit and beat her into complete and utter submission."

"Precisely. You will torment her day and night, making her life hell, obliterating her every last vestige of humanity. Until she becomes a soulless monster we can enslave as a weapon of war. Then the real fun begins."

"Oh! When do we start?" Excitement danced through Hans' eyes.

Henrik held up a hand. "Slow down. There is one more thing that you must be mindful of. Do _not_ upset the witch until your marriage vows have been exchanged. Right now, your reputation in Arendelle is tenuous at best. Until the witch is yours, you must take care not to arouse any suspicion."

The King of the Southern Isles threw his head back and chugged some champagne. "Our dear Frosty would rather die than dissolve her sister's marriage and force her to marry you! Anna would resent her for life, and that is her worst nightmare! Believe me, I've researched this topic for over a thousand hours, and there is literally no other way the witch can save her sister's marriage _and_ prevent war—besides offer herself as replacement."

Hans pondered an alternate scenario. "And if she refuses and kicks us out? What if neither of them will marry me? Then what? We go to war with Arendelle? That's suicide!"

Henrik rolled his eyes "Nah, the witch is too much of a pansy to use her powers for combat. Especially since she would be legally in the wrong." His eyes sparkled wickedly as he retrieved an ancient scroll covered with arcane symbols and Runic script. "Besides, she doesn't know about THIS!"

Hans leaned in for a better look. The sheet of parchment seemed to be a map. A winding trail meandered its way through the woods, leading to a very strange and abstract-looking image that vaguely a group of mythical humanoid creatures performing an occult ritual.

Beneath the sketches was what appeared to be a riddle. Hans was able to decipher individual words, but could not make the least bit of sense out of the archaic vocabulary, pedantic babblings, and gut-wrenchingly convoluted run-on sentences.

The words _Formula XIV_ were scrawled at the bottom of the page in Henrik's handwriting. That was the only thing that remotely made sense.

"What the hell is Formula XIV?"

Henrik gave a devilish laugh that sent shivers up Hans' spine. "Our secret weapon and key to victory. In case the witch gets any ideas about fighting back."

* * *

 _A few days later…_

Elsa clenched her teeth to bite back an explosion of laughter, as Anna swallowed yet another spoonful of the "medicine." Her freckled features twisted and contorted in a most agonized fashion as she forced the disgusting brown sludge down her throat. "You're doing great, sis." Elsa praised her encouragingly. "Just three more dosages, and you're finished!"

Dr. Helmholtz stood off on the side, watching the redhead with a pained expression, but inwardly smiling. He had instructed Anna to take her "prescription" under the guise of preventing a nascent chocolate allergy. Indeed, it was not unheard of for people to develop allergies in their adolescence or early adulthood. When he somberly informed Princess Anna that she was at risk of developing an allergic reaction to chocolate, she agreed to take the medicine in a heartbeat.

Anna gagged and rinsed her mouth vigorously. The bottle was almost empty by now. Elsa patted her on the back. "Almost there. Now you can have all the chocolates you want for the rest of your life." _Except for when I take your desserts for the next month!_

"Yuck!" Anna drained an entire glass of water in a single gulp. "This stuff smells even worse than Kristoff! And that stinker bathes about once a month!"

Elsa smiled at the mention of her dear brother-in-law. She loved his easygoing personality and dry sense of humor. But his personal hygiene was certainly not one of his finer attributes. Kristoff despised baths, and would often pout sophomorically and whine that it "was an affront to his masculinity." Only after some lengthy negotiations did Elsa manage to persuade him that as a Prince, certain levels of propriety must be adhered to. Kristoff finally agreed to bathe twice per week.

"If Anna is feisty-pants, then you're bossy-pants," Kristoff had teased.

"Being bossy is my job!" Elsa had teased back. Their camaraderie was sufficiently robust to withstand this sort of banter. The three young royals had all overcome childhoods of loneliness and isolation, to become the closest family in the entire kingdom. They had established enough comfort and mutual understanding, that insults could be traded in jest.

As Anna emitted another loud, retching sound, Elsa could hold it in no longer. Even thirteen years of _conceal, don't feel_ couldn't do a thing to restrain her. She coughed and gagged as shrieks of mirth exploded from her lungs with volcanic ferocity.

Anna quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "What? How is Kristoff not bathing funny? Seriously, what are you laughing at?"

Elsa sank to the floor as she continued to tremble violently with laughter, on the verge of hyperventilation. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Elsa turned her flushed, sweaty face to address Dr. Helmholtz. "Tell her!" was all she could manage before a fit of high-pitches squeals overtook her senses.

The young physician shifted contritely. Elsa's laughter was the most adorable thing he had ever heard and seen. The stately, regal façade had been stripped away to reveal who she truly was beneath her title: A fun-loving young woman with a heart as pure and innocent as freshly fallen snow. As her button-nose flushed pink and her eyes sparkled with every childish giggle, Dr. Helmholtz couldn't stop smiling too. "Your Highness, I'm afraid you've been double-crossed. This medicine wasn't medicine at all."

"Wait, what?" Anna instantly snapped to attention.

Dr. Helmholtz ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "All that stuff about the _chocolate allergy_ was completely made up. Your dear sister merely took the liberty of sprinkling pollen around the castle. That _medicine_ was just some asparagus and celery and raisin puree, amongst other things. Disgusting, but not toxic. Ask her for the complete list of ingredients." His eyes flitted back and forth between Elsa and Anna. "I'm very sorry about lying to you, but I could not disobey an order from my Queen."

Elsa was finally beginning to calm down. "And you bought it hook, line, and sinker!"

The doctor cracked a grin. "Or should you say hook, line, and _stinker_?"

Anna's face flushed redder than her hair, and both hands instinctively balled into fists, as the dreadful realization dawned upon her. "Why, you little…"

"So, do I win?" Elsa smirked.

Anna stamped her feet in mock outrage, as she flung the rest of the "medicine" into Elsa's face. "This isn't over! Just you wait, Elsa Frostberg! I will be victorious!" The redhead stalked away to begin plotting her next machination.

Elsa watched silently as she rounded a corner and vanished from sight. "That'll be a hard one to top."

Dr. Helmholtz, who had been silent for the past few minutes, finally spoke up. "I had no idea you were so mischievous," he admitted.

Elsa grinned sheepishly. "My sister can be very persuasive. We used to have fun like this all the time, until…"

Those words tumbled out with a fluidity and ease that was strangely involuntary. Elsa instantly clammed up. She had said too much. She had certainly not intended to inundate a lighthearted setting with such emotionally charged statements.

"I'm sorry, forget what I just said."

But her audience was surprisingly forgiving of her loose lips. "Your Majesty, there is no need to apologize. Ranting may not be politically correct, but it's one of the most liberating things you can do."

A few moments ago, Elsa had become withdrawn and seemed close to tears. But at these words, she loosened up again. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"You're the Queen, not God. You wouldn't be human if you never got emotional."

She gave him a shy, grateful little smile. "I guess. But please, just Elsa is fine."

"All right then, Elsa." Dr. Helmholtz reached into his pocket to withdraw a single truffle. Dark chocolate with strawberry filling. One of Elsa's favorites. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds at the sight. As he laid the bite-sized confection in her hand, the pads of his thumb inadvertently brushed over her knuckles. Beneath the gentle touch, a shuddering shockwave jolted his entire body. Her skin was soft and delicate, and as pure as freshly fallen snow.

As his large, muscular hands traced over the soft contours of every joint and curve, he found his mind—and eyes—wandering. The incident sunlight cast a shadowy gradient across her face, highlighting her features and accentuating her ethereal beauty. Her platinum blonde hair was fixed in a loose French braid, with a few loose tendrils framing her face like a silky curtain. Each strand of hair was like an ingot of gold spun into the finest thread.

Before long, he found himself drowning in her eyes. His breath hitched in his throat. Those bright blue orbs that were of the deepest and purest cerulean hue. The Snow Queen possessed the uncanny ability to captivate an audience and command respect with a single look. But her eyes were also a wellspring of compassion and tenderness, straight from the heart. There was strength and authority in her demeanor, but she was gentle as a lamb.

Elsa could only be an angel. No human could come close to her transcendent beauty. She was an aesthetic masterpiece straight from heaven, which no work of art or product of nature could dare rival. Whenever she smiled, her face would light up in a very girlish manner, which further enhanced that innocent, angelic vibe.

But her true beauty came from within. The vast majority of nobles—and he had encountered _a lot_ of them—were pompous, arrogant, and had no consideration for others. Those idiots had done nothing to merit their stations in life. They were simply lucky enough to be born into the right families at the right time. Yet they thought they were God's gift to Man. Their snooty words, sanctimonious attitudes, and outlandish senses of entitlement grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

The Snow Queen was truly an oddity amongst European royalty. A very rare but very good exception. Always polite and never duplicitous or condescending. Never abusing her power or imposing her will on others. She loved her subjects as if they were her own children, and was selflessly devoted to bettering all of their lives. The castle staff were not servants, but friends. Children approached her with absolutely no reservations as they asked to play with her icy magic.

Elsa's sense of humor—which he had not discovered until quite recently—was also wickedly adorable.

So immersed was he in his musings, Dr. Helmholtz was barely cognizant that he had been touching her hand for the past ten seconds, from the moment they first made inadvertent contact. His index and middle fingers were curled around her pinky. He had not noticed Elsa tugging gently but steadily, attempting to pry loose. "Excuse me Dr. Helmholtz, but it seems…" she gave her finger a sharp little wiggle to catch his attention.

His face flushed crimson with mortification, then whitened under shock, as he realized what he was doing. The doctor wrenched his hand back vigorously. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Your Maj— _Elsa_. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

But Elsa's bright blue eyes shone with understanding instead of anger. "Don't worry. It's really not a big deal."

His heart palpitated with all the speed and ferocity of a high-powered rifle, and his mouth was dry. But he managed to keep his cool and suppress the stammer from his voice. "I'm sorry. That was terribly impolite and unprofessional of me. Please forgive me if I unintentionally do anything strange. I've been feeling a little fatigued and sleep-deprived recently." This was not entirely untrue.

Elsa patted him comfortingly on the arm. "You do seem a little under the weather. Why don't you go take a nap? You work so hard and deserve a break."

Dr. Helmholtz silently thanked her a million times over for not exposing his pitiful excuse, and allowing him to keep his pride. Safe behind his locked door, the young doctor kicked savagely at a filing cabinet. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor.

Here he was, safe in his little sanctuary, where he was most in his element, surrounded by his own success. Trophies and laurels were framed upon every wall. But right now, they gave him no comfort. Painful childhood memories, which he had worked for so long and hard to repress, surfaced once again. _You fool! You deserved every bit of crap you've ever received in your life, and what happened today proves it! What makes you think you run from your past? Are you really so naïve, you think a couple of nice trophies and certificates changes who you really are? You are worthless piece of excrement, and that's all you will ever be!_

Indeed, all the accolades in the world couldn't negate his shameful past. Beneath that shiny veneer of success, he was still his pathetic old self. No amount of image-crafting could hide the fact that after all these years, he was still that oblivious oaf and incompetent jackmule.

 **Chapter 3 will be here soon. Stay tuned!**


	3. Tickle Trap

**To my guest reviewer: This is a separate universe from Playing Dirty and Brotherly Love :)**

 **Chapter 3:**

"How much longer?" Hans huffed impatiently. A chilly breeze whipped through his auburn hair, as he clambered higher along the dark, drafty mountain pass. For several days, Hans and Henrik had been trekking across the wilderness, through a hopelessly arduous and labyrinthine maze of winding mountain paths. The dense fog, thick undergrowth, and sporadic mounds of boulders made for terrible visibility, especially in the cold autumn weather. But Henrik seemed to know exactly where they were going.

Whenever Hans tried to ask questions about their secret mission, his brother would respond with statements that were vague at best. The thirteenth prince was getting fed up with the lack of information.

"Will you stop pestering me? We'll get there when we get there! Now shut your trap and keep moving!" Henrik snapped back. The older Westergard squinted into the dim glow of his lantern, peering intently at the map. "Another three miles, I reckon."

The sky had darkened and a full moon had risen over the canopies, by the time they arrived at a rocky cleft shaped like a man's nose. Henrik grinned with savage triumph. "We're here," he hissed. He placed his right hand firmly against the smooth granite, and began mumbling a lengthy incantation in a voice and language that was not his own.

"What are you—" Hans instantly clammed up and gasped as the stone rolled away to reveal the entrance to a cave.

"Congratulations, human," a low, raspy voice croaked from within the impenetrable darkness. "You are the first mortal in over five hundred years to solve the sacred riddle. Come in and make your wishes known."

A candle flickered on. There in front of the two brothers stood the most hideous and ancient-looking man they had ever seen. Long, wispy strands of hair hung like cobwebs from his mottled scalp, which was otherwise covered in boils. His eyes were bloodshot and bulged with knotted arteries. Both irises were as gray as a stormy sea. The waxy white skin was stretched so tightly over his stooped skeleton, it seemed it would crack under the slightest movement. Only the hot, rancid air that emanated from his nostrils confirmed that he was still alive.

The man smiled, revealing row after row of crooked, decaying teeth. "Come in, my children. It has been so long since this wretched old soul has had any company."

Henrik strode forward and spoke confidently. "Sir, we have come for a special concoction known as Formula XIV." The King of the Southern Isles thrust a burlap sack into his chest. The old man's arthritic fingers creaked loudly and abrasively as he opened the bag to reveal a massive assortment of precious stones.

"Yes, yes, this will do," the ancient alchemist rasped. His eyes bulged at the glowing gemstones. "This will buy you as much Formula XIV as you need. But there is one more thing I seek in payment. Blood."

"Blood?" Henrik repeated incredulously.

The strange old man nodded, and produced a diamond dagger from the pocket of his robe. "Two cups of blood from any mortal man. For my life force is depleted and my weary old body withering away in the sands of time."

Henrik turned to his brother and nodded curtly. "Hans, you heard him."

"What?" Hans shrieked, red-faced and furious. "Why does it have to be me? How is that even fair? This whole thing was your idea, and you won't even tell me anything about Formula XIV! Look, as much as I want revenge on the witch, you're benefitting from this scheme _way_ more than I am. I get Arendelle, but you're getting the entire planet!"

Henrik's nerves had been stretched to the breaking point after days of Hans' incessant complaining. He grabbed his brother by the collar and pinned him against the rocky wall of the cave. His green eyes flashed malevolently as he berated the thirteenth prince. Hans gasped for air as the large, powerful hand strangled his neck. Henrik was only a few inches taller than his youngest brother, but outweighed him by almost five stone.

"Listen, runt! You are in no position to bargain. Let me remind you that you are a disgraced ex-Prince who has been stripped of his title. You own no land, no assets, and have a terrible reputation. All I need to do is open my mouth, and you will be left with absolutely nothing! Unless you'd rather freeze and starve in the wilderness, I suggest you stop asking about things that don't concern you, and just obey!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Hans wheezed. Without another word of complaint, he rolled up his sleeve. The wizened old man slid his dagger neatly across the crook of Hans' arm, and let the blood trickle into a wineskin pouch.

Hans did not flinch as his blood was drawn, but emitted a loud gasp of pain as the alchemist pressed a long, bony finger to his inner forearm. A sharp hissing sound and the caustic smell of burning flesh filled the air. When the man removed his finger, a special mark had been branded into Hans' skin. A human skull, with snakes crawling out its eye sockets, took residence on the pale skin. This was the receipt for their completed transaction.

The alchemist nodded in approval. "Very nice. Now, Formula XIV isn't gonna make itself, is it?"

After several hours of flying sparks, crackling flames, and billowing smoke, the deed was done. Henrik was beaming ear to ear as he turned the bottle back and forth between his fingers, admiring his handiwork. The same image was imprinted on the wall of the container, matching the mark branded into Hans' flesh.

The elderly alchemist had some final words to impart. "The glass cannot be shattered by any force on earth. Since your blood was used, only you, Prince Hans, have the power to uncork the bottle and unleash its terrible magic." To demonstrate, he aligned the insignia on the bottle to the identical image burnt into Hans' skin. When the two came into perfect contact, a sharp crackling sound erupted, and the cork came loose.

"A final word of caution. Formula XIV is very powerful, but very costly. I advise that you spend it wisely, and save it as a last resort. Only use it when you have no other choice."

Henrik stowed the bottle of Formula XIV into his cloak, and bade the man farewell. As they began their trek through the wilderness, over the mountains and back to the kingdom, neither brother said a single word. Finally, as the spires of the castle came into view, Henrik broke the silence.

"You've done well, Hans. Here is your reward." Henrik tucked a tiny vial full of swirling green potion into the palm of Hans' hand. "I've allocated a small amount of Formula XIV for you to use at your own discretion. But unfortunately, this container doesn't have the safety seal. If you lose it or waste it, you're a dead man."

"Thank you, brother," there was a hint of sarcasm in Hans' voice. "So, since I'm the only person who can open the bottle, can I at least know something about Formula XIV?"

Henrik stroked his beard thoughtfully. "All you need to know is that there is only one cure. A potion made with fourteen infant hearts. Seven boys and seven girls. The moment we cross Arendelle's borders, the witch is doomed."

* * *

"He did what?" Anna shouted incredulously. "He gave you a piece of chocolate? Then he held your hand? And he ran away when you called him out? It looks like someone's in love!" Elsa finally had a day off, and Anna was determined to make the most of it. The girls laughed and joked as they made their way through the marketplace and village, towards the outskirts of the kingdom.

"Anna, seriously," Elsa repeated patiently for what felt like the millionth time. "There is nothing going on between myself and Dr. Helmholtz."

The younger girl batted her eyelashes. "Keep telling yourself that. Soon he'll be giving you full-body exams every time you visit."

"Anna! That's disgusting!" the blonde exclaimed. She whirled about wildly, eyes darting left and right. Fortunately, no one had heard. Elsa's horrified expression then became thoughtful and somber. "And it doesn't even make sense. Think about it. He's a _doctor_. Not just any doctor, but the royal physician. The finest in his profession in all the land, and he's hardly thirty-two years old. Why would he be attracted to someone with a defect?"

The Snow Queen suddenly felt the air compressed out of her lungs as a pair of arms enveloped her tightly in a warm hug. "Elsa, you're different, not defective. Everyone loves you just the way you are. Your magic has brought so much joy to those around you, especially to the children. You know they can never get enough of it. Besides, _you_ are also among the best in your profession. Arendelle couldn't possibly ask for a better Queen, and everyone knows it."

Elsa felt tears welling in her eyes. She made no motion to wipe them away. "I love you so much, Anna. What would I ever do without you?"

The redhead's jocular demeanor vanished. There was not a trace of joking in her voice, only care and concern. "Thank me by giving yourself a chance at happiness. You've given out so much love, it's time you received some in return."

"Are we still talking about Dr. Helmholtz?"

"Elsa, I'm serious. Anyone can see that Dr. Helmholtz has some feelings for you. And I know that you at the very least like him as a friend or acquaintance. Why don't you invite him to join us for dinner tomorrow? Kristoff and I will also be there, and so will Kai and Gerda. It won't be a date. Just a chance to get to know each other."

"I guess it can't hurt to ask," Elsa admitted. Indeed, there was much she didn't know about the man who had been Arendelle's royal physician for the past six years. Beneath that amiable personality and phenomenal talent, his past was completely shrouded in mystery. Although he could be quite outgoing in casual settings, Dr. Helmholtz very conspicuously avoided any talk regarding his personal life. It was rumored that he had endured a traumatic childhood and adolescence. But no one ever came close enough to even begin uncovering the truth. Elsa could not deny that she was starting to get quite curious.

Anna's jabbering voice interrupted her ruminations. "Anyways, enough of that lovey-dovey stuff. I've reserved Oaken's sauna for us all afternoon! Let's go!"

It was only November, but already the town was completely inundated with Christmas-themed decorations. People whistled yuletide tunes as they went about their daily business. Festivity and cheer permeated the simplest interactions, and everyone was in a good mood. With nearly a foot of natural snow blanketing the ground, it was the perfect day for the sauna.

"Here we are!" The royal sisters removed their cloaks and walked through the front door. Anna gave a cheery wave to an enormously tall and obese man with strawberry-blonde hair. "Hi, Oaken!"

"Yoo hoo!" Oaken greeted them back. "The sauna is prepared and ready to go. I shall take my leave now, and be back at five. Have a wonderful time!" Oaken clapped both girls on the back and gave Anna a sly wink, before turning sideways and scooting out the door.

"Phew!" Anna gasped, as she stepped over the threshold and was instantly blown away by a veritable typhoon of hot, steamy air. "Oaken sure put this thing on full blast, didn't he? Hey sis, you think you can cool it down a little?"

Elsa waved her hands in the air, meaning to summon a flurry of snowflakes. But all she managed was a few feeble puffs of steam. She made several more attempts, only to get the same result.

"Sorry Anna, it looks like my powers have been neutralized in here."

Anna's face twisted into a malicious grin. "Perfect. Just as I thought."

"Wait, what?"

"Now!" Anna bellowed at the top of her lungs. Before Elsa could register her confusion, a door slammed shut and a lock clicked into place. Elsa whirled about aimlessly. Anna was nowhere to be seen. Standing in her stead was at least half a dozen grinning children.

"Hi Frosty," a chubby boy who seemed about eight years old shot her a mischievous smirk.

 _Frosty_. That became Elsa's nickname two years ago. Virtually every child in the kingdom—and even a substantial number of teenagers—affectionately addressed her as Frosty, much to the chagrin of their parents. But Elsa had no problem at all with the nickname. In fact, she loved it. She found it uplifting to know that she had established such a degree of comfort and familiarity with her subjects.

Elsa crouched down and gave them a soft, gentle smile. "Hello there, children. Can I help you?"

A girl standing at the front shook her head. "Are you ticklish, Frosty?"

"Nope. Not at all." That was a lie. Elsa was incredibly ticklish, and only Anna knew that.

 _Anna!_ That sneaky sister of hers must have set her up. She arranged for this to happen! Before Elsa could pound on the door and interrogate her sister, another child stepped forward. "Hi Frosty! Princess Anna said you liked being tickled!"

Elsa backed away nervously. "Actually, I don't. Princess Anna was only joking. Besides, I'm not ticklish at all."

"Are you sure, Frosty? Then why is your face getting all red? And why do you look so scared? You can run, but you can't hide, Frosty!"

Elsa decided to beat them at their own game. "Nice try," she smirked playfully. "But nobody's tickling Frosty today!" Elsa threw her hands forward to create an icy wall around herself, but produced nothing but steam.

The children cackled gleefully. "We've got you now, Frosty!"

Elsa swallowed nervously, and could feel her heart thumping. She could talk business all day without breaking a sweat, even with the most disagreeable and ornery dignitaries. But the prospect of being tickled reduced her into a quivering wreck. Perhaps her best shot was to treat her current situation as another set of negotiations. Play to her strengths.

"How about this?" Elsa began. "If you guys don't tickle me, I'll give you chocolate."

"Nope! We wouldn't miss this for all the chocolate in the world!"

Elsa tried again. "If you don't tickle me, we'll go to the toy store. If it's okay with Mommy and Daddy, I'll buy each of you anything you want, for ten krone. How about fifteen? Twenty?"

A blonde-haired girl who couldn't have been more than five years old spoke up. "Nice try, Frosty! We can get you to buy us presents any time. But we can only tickle you today!"

 _Darn it! These kids are too clever!_ Elsa was seriously beginning to panic, as she wondered if any of her bargaining chips would be of any use at all. "If you guys don't tickle me, I'll be your servant for the whole day." She knew what kind of disastrous consequences that could have, but Elsa would do literally anything to avoid being tickled.

"Nope! Get her!" The kids all leapt forward at once, and wrestled Elsa to the floor with a loud crash. "Tickle tickle tickle!"

Elsa's entire body began to shake and convulse uncontrollably as hundreds of tiny fingers assaulted her most sensitive, ticklish spots. She shrieked and snorted with laughter and tears rolled down her cheeks, as the children squeezed her under the armpits and poked her in the stomach. "Hahahahaha st-st-STOP it! Hahahahaha! Please! Stop tickling me!"

The children were laughing even harder as they continued their onslaught. "Yay! It's working! Tickle tickle tickle!" They began tickling even more vigorously. Puffs of steam exploded harmlessly over their heads and filled the entire room. But in the hot sauna, Elsa's icy magic was powerless to do any damage.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" Elsa leapt six feet into the air and crashed loudly into a wooden bench, as a particularly adept finger poked her under the ribcage. The kids exploded with laughter at her hilariously dramatic reactions. Temporarily distracted, they eased off the tickling for a moment. Elsa saw her chance. She quickly darted to the other side of the room, and pounded furiously on the locked door. "Anna! Let me out of here!"

Anna's face leered at her through the window. "Not a chance! This is what you get for that _chocolate allergy_. Hey kids, I've got a special surprise for whoever tickles Frosty the hardest! Ready, set, go!"

"Anna, you little—" Before Elsa could finish, the children had her cornered again.

Elsa cleared her throat. "I command you to stop tickling me. That is an order."

"No it's not, Frosty! We're not listening! Get her!"

"Wait!" Anna interrupted before the children could resume their onslaught. "Let's be fair. Who votes we keep tickling Frosty?" Seven hands shot into the air.

"And who votes we let Frosty go?" Only Elsa raised her hand.

"Seven against one. Majority rule. Back to Tickle Land!" The children whooped with laughter as they descended upon Elsa once again.

"What?" Elsa yelped. "Wait, stop! That's not fair! This is not a democracy!"

"Life isn't fair, Frosty!" Before long, Elsa was smothered by the horde of relentless ticklers again. She could hardly breathe as she choked and gagged through uncontrollable giggles. Finally, after what felt like hours, the tickling mercifully came to a standstill. Elsa collapsed weakly to the floor, chest heaving and face flushed crimson.

As Anna unlocked the door and entered the now-deactivated sauna, the children mobbed her, clamoring loudly. "I won! No, I won! I tickled Frosty the hardest! I made Frosty cry! I made Frosty pee in her pants!"

Elsa staggered to her feet, leaning against the wall for support. "You guys are the worst…" she managed weakly. Her skin still tingled, as if a million invisible ants were dancing up and down her body.

"We're sorry, Frosty," one of the kids apologized contritely. "We were having too much fun, and kind of got carried away."

Elsa smiled wearily. "That's all right, sweetie. It was only a game. But can I ask that you don't tickle me outside the sauna? My powers might get a little out of control, and someone could get hurt."

"I'm sorry too, Frosty," another child echoed. "Do you still like us?"

"Of course I do," Elsa crouched down to his level and pulled him into a hug. The scratchy sensation was ebbing away, and she was beginning to regain her composure. The rest of the children crowded forward for their own hugs. Elsa couldn't hold back a grin. No matter what happened, it was impossible for her to be angry with a child.

The youngest child grabbed Anna by the hands and hopped up and down excitedly. "Can we go back to the castle and have a snowball fight? We promise we won't tickle Frosty anymore!"

The children chattered eagerly as they made their way towards the castle courtyard. The royal sisters fell back, watching with amusement. Elsa held out her hand for Anna to shake. "Congratulations, Anna. You have won the Prank War."

* * *

"That Collin is such a loser! He's so fat, he can hardly even run. It's no wonder he always gets picked last in gym class!" A brown-haired boy who appeared to be nine years old laughed through a mouthful of sweets. The snowball fight had finished, and the children were now huddled around the castle fireplace, indulging in refreshments. When Elsa and Anna momentarily left the room, a few of the children had decided it would be fun to bully their classmate behind his back.

"Yeah," a girl with pigtails agreed. "Remember when those kids asked him to play tag? He got so mad and everyone laughed. It was so funny!"

Another boy chimed in. "He's so fat, he barely even fits in his seat! They probably need to get an extra large desk just for him!"

Elsa had heard snippets of their conversation from the next room, and her heart ached for the poor child. She absolutely detested bullying. Elsa immediately set down what she was doing, intending to reprimand the children for their cruel behavior. They could certainly learn some compassion and empathy. But she had hardly moved a muscle, before another voice rendered her efforts superfluous.

"Hey buddy, that was not a nice thing to say." Dr. Helmholtz's voice was calm and gentle boomed with authority. "No one is perfect. You shouldn't make fun of people over things they can't help. Do you think Collin doesn't know he's fat? He knows it very well, and every time you call attention to it, it hurts."

"But I'm telling the truth," a child's voice was heard protesting. "Collin _is_ really fat."

"But what are your reasons for _telling the truth_? Are you trying to encourage him to make healthier choices, or are you just trying to have fun at his expense. It's good to tell the truth, but you must speak the truth with kindness. Tell me something. Do you children like Queen Elsa and Princess Anna?"

"Yes! They re the nicest, coolest, most awesomest people ever!"

Dr. Helmholtz continued, "Can you tell me a single time they were ever unkind to anyone?" Several seconds of silence elapsed, as the child shook his head wordlessly.

"How do you think Frosty would feel if she heard you talking like that? Don't you think Frosty would be disappointed in you, if she knew that this is how you treat other people?"

"But Collin shouldn't eat like a pig if he doesn't want to be fat?"

"Do you know why he's fat? Maybe he's going through some emotional difficulties, and food is his only source of comfort. Maybe he has a medical condition that causes him to be overweight. We shouldn't judge people when we don't know what's happening in their lives. Listen, I know you are a bunch of really nice kids. But when you make fun of people, you're making yourself look bad. Instead, wouldn't it be nice if you can help Collin out a bit? Maybe he'll turn out to be a great friend."

"Yes, sir. We're sorry."

Dr. Helmholtz spun on his heels and strode down the hall, back towards his office, back to his research on lung transplants. But little did he know that someone had heard his little tirade. And that _someone_ was growing fond of the kind, diplomatic person she saw.


	4. Making a Difference

**Before we begin, let us congratulate everyone who recently graduated from high school or college! Enjoy your well-earned summer!**

 **Anyways, this is the last chapter before Hans and Henrik arrive in Arendelle. As usual, all feedback is welcome!**

 **Chapter 4:**

"Yay, we're here!"

"Wow, the castle is so pretty on the inside!"

"I wonder what we're gonna eat today?"

"When do we get to see Frosty?"

The headmistress Mrs. Hilde cleared her throat. She was a plump, motherly woman in her mid-fifties. "All right children, settle down now. Single file line, no pushing or shoving. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior today. Especially you, Alexander. I don't want to see any spitballs, rubber bands, or silly pranks of any kind."

The impish voice of a young boy spoke up. "Can I show Frosty my collection of plastic spiders?"

"Absolutely not. Hand them over right now!"

From the desk of her study, Elsa chuckled silently to herself. _Whoever you are, if you play any prank on me that involves spiders, you've just earned yourself a one-way ticket to the guillotine._ The orphanage had recently requested a visit to the castle, and she was all too happy to oblige. Elsa adored children. She had always considered herself to be a very motherly person. In the wake of her own parents' death, she had a particular soft spot for orphans. For the past several years, she had been a tireless advocate for their wellbeing. She had done much to elevate their standard of living, and broaden their schooling and vocational opportunities. Every child deserved a loving and stable environment.

Anna had gone to join Kristoff on an ice-harvesting trip, so Elsa would be on her own for the day. As much as she loved the orphans, entertaining fifty of them by herself would prove a formidable task. But as long as no spiders—real or fake—were involved, there wouldn't be anything she couldn't handle. Elsa quickly filed away her paperwork and began descending the spiral staircase.

"Frosty's here!" A chorus of delighted voices erupted. Before Elsa could react, at least a dozen hands grabbed her around the wrists, and dragged her forward. "Can you build me a snowman? No fair, I asked first! Frosty likes me the best! No, Frosty likes me more! Read us a story! Play the piano!" For the next several hours, Elsa worked diligently and patiently to fulfill each request. The children stuffed themselves with the finest food and drink, as they huddled in closer. They were all entranced by her beauty. By her kindness. By the soft, graceful manner in which she spoke. There was an engaging gentleness about her that naturally put people at ease.

Elsa was busy creating miniature ice sculptures of each child, when a gentle tug on the sleeve caught her attention.

"Frosty?" A little girl, who couldn't have been more than five or six years old, was looking up at her with wide eyes.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Can I have this?"

"Victoria!" the headmistress chided gently. "It is impolite to ask such a thing." The matronly woman dipped into a curtsy. "Forgive me, Your Majesty."

"It's not a problem. It—" Without thinking, Elsa began opening her mouth to give consent. She was more than willing to let the children keep any trinkets, or other pocket-sized items they found lying around. But her heart stopped when she saw the object in question.

Victoria was holding a doll in her hand. But it wasn't just any doll. It was a gift from Elsa's late grandmother when she was just a little girl, and Anna was still in diapers. More importantly, it was Elsa's most cherished possession and her ever-present companion from what little childhood she had. Her bright sapphire eyes filled with nostalgia. Elsa wanted so badly to take the doll back and hug it tightly to her chest. But what kind of heartless monster would take a toy from a child? She dithered for a few seconds, equivocating between two very bad options.

Finally, she spoke with a heavy heart. "Victoria," she began, kneeling down to the child's level. "This doll was a gift from my grandmother, and she… means a lot to me. It would be really hard for me to say good-bye to her…" Elsa felt her heart break as disappointment clouded the little girl's eyes. Why was she such a despicable human being? How could she say no to a child?

"But I have something else for you." Elsa quickly excused herself from the room, and rummaged through the storage closet in a sparsely-traveled corridor of the castle. There, covered in a fine coating of dust but still in remarkably good condition, was a wooden crate full of her childhood playthings. Elsa smiled inwardly at the sight. She knew just what to do with these.

* * *

The clock struck five, and the group was set to depart. Elsa found herself mobbed by hugs as the children filed out into the courtyard, and towards their awaiting carriage. It warmed her heart to see the joy sparking in the children's eyes, as they each departed with an armful of toys. But a twinge of guilt continued to nudge at her conscience.

Elsa glanced down at the doll in her hands. Why was she so hesitant to part with it? It had been a gift of love. It was the love between the giver and recipient that truly gave the doll its value, otherwise it was little more than a mere bundle of cloth and wood. By allowing her self-centered instincts to prevail, she would be rendering her most cherished possession worthless.

Love was a gift to be shared, not hoarded. Elsa had been blessed with the gift of love, and now it was her turn to give. Suddenly, a newfound wave of determination washed over her. Every bit of ambivalence was gone.

"Wait!" Elsa tripped over her own feet, losing one sandal in the process, as she stumbled into the courtyard. The coachman halted the carriage. Elsa smoothed her flyaway hair and tried to still her heavy breathing. "Victoria?" The child clambered forward. "I have something for you." Elsa laid the doll into her outstretched hands.

Victoria's bright blue eyes sparkled with delight. "Really?" she squealed excitedly. "I can have her?"

"Will you take care of her for me?" Elsa couldn't hold back a smile at the little girl's adorable ramblings.

"Of course! She's so cute and pretty!" Her face shone with joy as she clutched the doll reverently to her chest.

That was all Elsa needed to hear. "Then she's yours."

"Yay! Thank you Frosty!"

"Thank me by loving her," Elsa responded softly. But amidst the child's excitement, those words went unheard. "Love yourself and love those around you."

The carriage rolled down the road, and Elsa retreated back into the castle. She sat down on her bed and glanced around. It still hurt a little to see an empty void on her dresser, where the doll was usually placed. But a void in a child's heart had been filled. Seeing the smile on the little girl's face was more precious than any gold or silver. Material possessions would fade away and become irrelevant or obsolete in the sands of time, forever leaving an insatiable thirst for more. Untold millions of men had wasted away in the pursuit of material possessions. But one day, the world would become a better place because a seed of love had been sown in a child's heart. Deep down inside, Elsa felt warm.

* * *

Dinner in Arendelle Castle was an interesting affair that night. The royal family was seated together along with Kai, Gerda, and a few other staff members. True to her word, Elsa had invited Dr. Helmholtz to join them.

Kristoff grabbed a large mug of ale and drained it in one sitting. He turned to smirk playfully at Dr. Helmholtz, who had hardly touched his glass. "What's the matter, Doc? Not man enough to handle the booze?" Over the past year, the ice master and the royal physician had developed quite a strong rapport. One a rugged outdoorsman, hardened by the elements and forged in the harsh tundra. The other a polished intellectual who had blazed his trail through cutthroat competition in the laboratory and classroom.

"Talk all you want, Kris. If I drank like that, the next patient I operate on would probably wind up looking like you."

"Whatever you say, Helmethead. We all know you drink like a girl."

Their conversation was interrupted when a fork suddenly, inexplicably, sailed across the room and clattered to the floor. Anna stifled a snort of laughter.

"I didn't do it!" Dr. Helmholtz called out. "It was Elsa!"

Elsa hesitated before joking back, "I can freeze things, but I can't make them fly."

Dr. Helmholtz looked her in the eye with all the seriousness he could muster, before his face cracked into a boyish grin. He raised an eyebrow suggestively. "You make my heart fly."

The entire room was stunned into deathly silence, as every head turned. "Whoa!" Kristoff exclaimed. He slapped the other man jovially on the back. "What's going on, Doc?"

Dr. Helmholtz shook his head vigorously. His face flushed crimson and heat radiated from his cheeks. "Nothing! What are you talking about?" His voice had a defensive edge, and the words tumbled out rapidly. "I'm just concerned about Queen Elsa's safety when there are forks and knives flying around."

"Oh really?" Kristoff teased. "Then why is your face so red?"

"It's the liquor!" Dr. Helmholtz insisted.

"Mate, you've only had one drink!"

Dr. Helmholtz was on the verge of hyperventilating, when Anna came to his rescue. "All right gentlemen, you've both had enough to drink."

The rest of the night proceeded without incident. As the drinks ran dry and the food was consumed, the seats emptied one by one. Finally, only the Queen and a very contrite royal physician remained.

"Elsa," Dr. Helmholtz began tentatively. His stomach was in knots. "About that comment… I didn't mean it that way. All I meant to say was that I was concerned for your safety when there were random bits of metal flying around. I was really afraid that you would get hurt. That's what made my heart proverbially _fly out of my chest_ , you know…"

Dr. Helmholtz could have slapped himself. The more he tried to mitigate the damage done, the more idiotic he sounded. By trying to explain away his gaffe, he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. But he couldn't simply say nothing either. He mentally cursed himself a thousand times over.

If Elsa had seen right through that pathetic fabrication, she made no attempt to expose him. "You don't need to apologize. You just got tongue-tied, that's all." The slightest trace of mischief flickered across her features. "Besides, you _do_ seem pretty inebriated."

Elsa reached across the table and patted him on the hand. Her eyes were understanding and nonjudgmental, and her touch electrifying. Dr. Helmholtz tried to stop his heart from pounding and willed the sweat to recede from his brow. But his body was betraying him. To spare himself any further humiliation, he jerked his hand back. Elsa appeared confused, even hurt, at his sudden withdrawal. But she said nothing.

The silence was deafening. Finally, Elsa spoke. "I saw what happened yesterday between you and the children. It was very… _noble_ of you to speak out like that."

Dr. Helmholtz scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Angels should not compliment mortal men. For some reason, Elsa had made an exception for him, and he was at a loss for words. "You don't make fun of people over things they can't help. That's a cheap and dirty way to fight. Besides, no one is perfect. Everyone hates something about themselves. Anyone who doesn't is in denial." Inwardly, he let out a hollow, bitter laugh. _You can sure say that again._

Elsa nodded propitiatingly and spoke softly, her eyes focused on his shirt rather than his eyes. "It's a shame that people compensate for their own insecurities by knocking others down, instead of elevating themselves. This is the kind of thinking that impedes the progress of humanity. God only knows how many great thinkers have been destroyed by bullies and bigots."

Dr. Helmholtz took a swig of ale, and laughed offhandedly. "That is why bullies are the scum of the earth, and should all have their tongues cut out."

Elsa sighed pensively. "If the heart could be legislated, the world would be a perfect place." With those cryptic words, the clock struck ten. She rose from where she was seated. "Good night, Dr. Helmholtz."

As Elsa's soft, dainty footsteps died down in the distance, the young doctor was left alone with his thoughts. His hand still tingled from where they had touched. But his heart ached. He wasn't truly the good, kind man that Elsa believed him to be. In fact, he wasn't good or kind at all.

Dr. Helmholtz was a selfish man. Sure, he despised injustice. Sure, the very nature of his job implied a degree of compassion. But deep down inside, his heart was rotten to the core. He could not lie to himself. Nothing he'd ever done had been performed out of altruism

Unbeknownst to Elsa, he had watched as she gave her precious doll away. He saw the stricken look on her beautiful face, saw the tears glistening in her sapphire orbs, as she broke her own heart to heal another's. Elsa's act of kindness had been done purely out of love and goodness. His was ridden with ulterior motives.

He peered into a wineglass. A handsome man with golden-blonde hair and light gray eyes stared back at him. This man stood six feet three inches tall, and his muscles could have been carved out of stone. Beneath that imposing reflection was his true self: An overweight, unathletic, socially awkward young boy. Suddenly, he was twelve years old again, being mercilessly bullied by his peers. No one stood up for him. Until one day, he stood up for himself. And the consequences had been an unprecedented disaster. It still pained him to remember.

Why had he spoken out against those children insulting their poor classmate? Did he actually care about standing up for what was right, or was he trying to vicariously avenge his childhood self? Did he actually care about empowering the societally disenfranchised, or was he simply trying to assert himself as a strong and confident person? Was he simply saying to those kids what he wished he'd had the gall to say to his own tormentors twenty years ago?

Those questions reverberated endlessly through the hollows of his skull, perhaps never to be answered. But one thing he knew with all his heart.

Brian Helmholtz was not a good man. If Elsa knew the truth about his past, she would never accept him.

 **Sorry about the later update! I will try to post chapters in intervals of 3-5 days. Next chapter, Hans and Henrik arrive in Arendelle!**


	5. Nobody Loves the Snow Queen

**In the previous chapter, we learned that Dr. Helmholtz was bullied as a child, and it has had a profound impact on his psyche. What other secrets is he hiding? We shall find out in the upcoming chapters!**

 **September 7, 2016 edit: Hans humor has been removed. **

**Chapter 5:**

The Southern Isles ship glided smoothly through the sleek waters, guided only by the light of stars and the ruthless ambition of two very determined men. At dawn's first light, streaks of pink began to propagate themselves across the indigo sky. A faint golden glow rose in the eastern horizon, and the chirping of birds filled the crisp, salty air.

Hans was practically dancing with excitement as Arendelle's coastline came into view. "I can't wait to get revenge on those two!" he prattled to himself. The thirteenth prince smacked his lips as he indulged in his fantasies. "I see a nice cushiony chair in the throne room with my name written on it. Day and night, I'll have thousands upon thousands of idiot peasants bowing at my feet and catering to my every whim. And if the witch tells me to knock it off, I'll backhand her right across the face! Oh boy, I can't wait!

 _Celebrate all you want, little brother,_ Henrik scoffed silently. _This is precisely why you will never amount to anything. You will never achieve your full potential if you are so caught up in instant gratification._

Hans continued to babble. "First, I'll have them build a ten meter tall marble statue of King Hans in the courtyard. Then I'll get rid of all those stupid paintings of Frosty and her dear Daddy in the portrait gallery!"

"Damn right," Henrik chuckled. The King of the Southern Isles was seated hunched over a table. He pored over a hefty encyclopedia of European Family Law, studying the Divorce and Annulment clause for the umpteenth time.

Hans rubbed his hands together gleefully. "And after I get an heir or two, I think I'll just toss our dear Frosty into the dungeons. After all, that's where she belongs."

 _Keep telling yourself that! I only need you until I have the witch under my control. In fact, you were more useful when you were invisible,_ Henrik mentally cursed. Then he composed himself and spoke diplomatically. "Hans, I owe you an apology. I was entirely too harsh on you two years ago. Even though you failed to take Arendelle, you achieved something far more valuable. You gave us leverage over the witch. The Snow Queen may be able to level the entire continent with a flick of her finger, but before the week is over, she will be answering to her husband and King." The eldest Westergard tossed a handful of gold coins at his brother. Hans caught them with a surprised but gratified look, and stowed them into his pocket.

The thirteenth prince traced a finger over the insignia branded into his inner forearm. "Perhaps I can use Formula XIV against her?"

Henrik gently pushed his arm down. "Formula XIV was meant to be an emergency backup plan. That stuff cost a fortune. If you play your cards right, you won't be needing it."

Hans crossed his arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So, how exactly am I supposed to get the witch under my control? Why would she keel over and submit simply because I'm married to her? On paper, I have my rights as a husband. But she's the one with the powers."

A sinister smile spread across Henrik's features. Beneath the glow of the rising sun, his eyes flashed like flaming embers in a bottomless pit. "Be creative. Don't forget, you aren't trying to best her physically. It's her heart and soul, and not her body, that you are trying to break. Do whatever it takes to crush her spirit beyond repair. Turn her loved ones against her. Make her feel alone and despised. Then she will lose her sanity and turn into the monster we all know she is capable of becoming. After that, the rest is my job."

"Above all, remember one thing. Anna will always be her greatest vulnerability."

As the ship entered the harbor, the anchor was released and a gangplank was lowered. Henrik grinned blissfully as he beheld Arendelle's flag flying high overhead, fluttering proudly in the morning breeze. "We're here."

* * *

"What do you mean I have to marry you?" Anna shouted. Her angry voice resonated loudly throughout the high ceilings and voluminous rafters of the throne room. "I called off our engagement when I punched you into the fjord!"

"Whoa there, feisty-pants. You need to calm your dramatic butt down. No need for violence here." Hans reached out to stroke Anna tauntingly on the cheek, until an enraged Kristoff lunged across the table and shoved him away. He wrapped a protective arm around his wife's shoulders, and glared menacingly at the red-haired man. Hans continued to smirk.

Elsa folded her hands calmly and glared at Henrik. Her voice was deathly soft. "Prince Hans manipulated my sister, toyed with her emotions and then left her to die alone. He knew exactly what he was doing! There was nothing accidental or spontaneous about what he did. It was completely premeditated, with absolutely no remorse and no sense of shame. And now you expect us to honor _our end of the deal_?" Though she refused to show it, Elsa was nervous. King Henrik of the Southern Isles was the one man on the continent who could challenge her in a game of wits. Besides, he did have the law on his side.

Henrik was unimpressed. "And whose fault was it that Anna was dying in the first place? Whose fault was it that she was locked up in the castle for thirteen years, with almost no human interaction? Whose fault was it that she grew up so deprived of nurture and experience, she'd be naïve enough to think a mere friendship and infatuation lasting _less than_ _one day_ was true love?" Those words were aimed straight at Elsa's heart. Anna furiously opened her mouth to argue, but Henrik silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Besides, what evidence do we have that Hans betrayed you? Princess Anna, what reason do we have to believe your version of events? It all boils down to your word against Hans'. Let's not forget that you were half-conscious and barely clinging onto life—thanks to your own sister, no less. The fact remains that Hans was the most mentally coherent individual in that room, so his version of events is the most credible account that we have. Hans claims that he tried to save you, but it was too late. Tell me, Princess. Don't you think Hans felt bad that he couldn't save you, because he hadn't had enough time to cement that bond of _true love_? Is it my brother's fault that you had such unrealistic expectations of him?"

Kristoff spoke up. "Hans told everyone that Anna had died in the library! If this doesn't prove that every word out of his mouth is a lie, then I don't know what does!"

Henrik shrugged nonchalantly. "How do you know Hans was not telling the truth _as he saw it_? Princess Anna died not long after she was brought back to the castle. Is it not implausible that in the ten minutes preceding her death, her physical condition was so dire that my brother genuinely believed she was already dead at that point?"

Kristoff fell silent. He could not argue against that. Henrik assumed a sympathetic tone. "Listen. I'm very sorry about this big convoluted mess of hurt feelings. I'm sorry that things ended on such a sour note. But let's be rational. There is ZERO evidence of Hans' alleged treachery, aside from what was seen and heard by a girl who was freezing to death and barely conscious. What we _do_ know is that there is a legally binding engagement between Prince Hans and Princess Anna. A marriage was promised, and a marriage there must be. If this agreement is not fulfilled, we have the legal standing to declare war."

"But I'm already married to Kristoff!" Anna protested. She lovingly stroked the ring on her fourth finger. If Hans had his way, today might be the last time she'd ever wear it again.

"So you are," Henrik said coolly. "But as Queen of Arendelle, your sister can nullify it with one stroke of her pen."

"Elsa would never do that!" Anna screamed furiously, tears beginning to stream down her freckled cheeks. Kristoff rubbed her back soothingly, fighting back his own tears. It took every ounce of willpower to restrain himself from leaping forward and smashing Hans' smirking face into the table.

"She doesn't have a choice," Henrik responded unemotionally. Then he flashed a chilling smile. "Unless she would like to offer herself in replacement."

* * *

 _One week later…_

Elsa sat slumped over the desk of her study, surrounded on all fronts by stacks of books. The blonde rubbed her tired eyes. She had hardly slept at all in the past week, as she scoured the library's every book and document pertaining to marriage and divorce. During her thirteen years of isolation, the young heir had read every single book in the castle library. She racked her brains for any figment of memory. There must be something she could use against Hans and Henrik.

"It's no use," she finally admitted to a very downcast Anna. Elsa had informed her most trusted councilors of their predicament, and they left no stones unturned in their research of marital law. But every inquiry led to the same result. Henrik was right. There was no loophole.

Except for one.

"Are you really going to do it?" Anna's voice was hesitant and fearful. Elsa nodded mutely.

Anna slammed her fists on the table. "Just tell Hans and his brother to buzz off. If they want to declare war on us, let them! We'll blast the Southern Isles—and anyone who tries to support them—into the next Ice Age!"

Elsa smiled ruefully. "No, Anna. You don't really mean that. War must be avoided at all costs."

Anna tried again to dissuade her sister. "But if you marry Hans, he would become King of Arendelle. He once tried to steal the throne… and now we're just gonna hand it over to him?"

Elsa squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Our forefathers were smart. They understood the possibility of usurpation. They knew that a foreigner could never be as invested in Arendelle's well being, as one of our own. Under our laws, Hans is a King in name only. He does not have the power to make any decisions without my approval or the council's."

"Besides, Hans has no claims to the throne outside of our marriage. This means he won't try to seriously hurt me. If anything happened to me, Hans would lose his position and you would inherit the throne."

"But… it's just not fair," Anna spoke pleadingly. "How can you marry Hans?"

Elsa felt sick to the stomach, but composed herself and spoke with conviction. "One of us is legally bound to marry Hans. I can do this for Arendelle. For you and Kristoff."

"What about you, Elsa? Don't you also deserve a happy ending?"

"As long as you're happy and Arendelle is at peace, then I'll be happy."

Anna stamped her foot in frustration. "A girl spends her whole life dreaming about her perfect wedding! How can you be happy if you have to marry Hans? Imagine waking up every morning for the rest of your life, and seeing that disgusting man right next to you!"

Elsa responded rather wistfully, her voice thick with emotion. "I've accepted long ago that no man could ever love the Snow Queen. If turns out to be the best use for my marriage, so be it." Elsa blinked back a fresh wave of tears, and pulled her baby sister into a hug. "Anna, you have too much love to give. It would be such a pity if it were wasted on Hans. Someone like me on the other hand… well, some people were never meant for love."

Anna's face fell. She hated to see her sister sacrificing her own happiness upon the altar of duty. Elsa had taken an oath to be the Protector of the Dominion, but she was still human and had her own needs. But above all, she deserved to be happy.

Ever since they were little girls, the defining aspect of Elsa's personality had been her shyness and introversion. But to mistake her reticence for coldness would be a colossal mistake. It wasn't hard to see that Elsa truly had an infinite capacity for love.

No matter how busy she was, every day she would set aside time for those she cared about. Elsa never neglected to build a snowman with Anna, or sneak into the kitchens to pillage the chocolate stash together. Nor did she ever hesitate to entertain the children with her magic, no matter how tired she was or how persistently they harassed her.

Anna thought of how Elsa worked herself ragged into the late hours of the night, going far beyond the call of duty and necessity to make Arendelle a wonderful place to live. It was not uncommon to find the Snow Queen asleep at her desk, with her head buried in a stack of papers and a plate of cold food lying forlornly on the side, until Kai carried her to bed. It was a heartrending scene. Elsa had focused so much time and effort on loving others, she often forgot to love herself.

Worst of all, Anna felt responsible for her sister's predicament. If she hadn't agreed to marry Hans, if she hadn't thrown a fit at Elsa's coronation, none of this would have happened. It was her fault that Hans had a foot in the door.

Elsa must have sensed that Anna was about to raise another series of objections. She gave the younger girl a comforting smile. "Don't worry, Anna. I'm at peace with this. It is my duty, and it has to be done." On that note, Elsa rose from where she was seated and trudged out the door. Before the day was over, she would have an answer for Hans. Before the day was over, her fate would be sealed.

Before the day was over, she would be forever sentenced to the loveless, childless future that she had long accepted to be her destiny. After all, who could ever love the Snow Queen?

 **More to come!**


	6. Witches and Angels

**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Any and all feedback is appreciated. That way I know what is working well, and what can be improved. The more reviews, the better!**

 **September 7, 2016 edit:** **Hans humor and profanity removed.**

 **Without further ado, Chapter 6:**

Hans leaned back in the dining chair, his feet propped up against the table. In his lap was a huge plate of open-faced sandwiches that he had nicked from the kitchens. The entire tabletop and floor were littered with breadcrumbs and sticky puddles of spilt beverages. But he paid no heed.

The thirteenth prince smirked as he popped open a bottle of champagne and chugged ravenously. When the bottle was empty, he haphazardly tossed it over his shoulder and let the glass shatter against the floor. "Arendelle's got some mighty fine food and drink," Hans chuckled to himself. "I could sure get used to this place. Wealthiest land in Northern Europe, and soon it will be mine!"

Hans was munching on his fourth sandwich, when the gentle clearing of a throat caught his attention. He glanced over the shoulder. Elsa's slender form stood framed in the doorway. Her eyes were sad and subdued and her hands were shaking. But there was an air of steely determination about her.

Hans pushed his muddy boots higher onto the tabletop, and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Why are you up so late, Frosty? Can't sleep?" He proceeded to reel off a string of rude jokes, and guffawed stupidly at his own sense of humor.

Elsa's expression hardened as she surveyed the dining hall. The normally pristine room had been trashed into a war zone. Even the pool rooms at the shadiest taverns were tidier than this! The table was an unintelligible mess of half-eaten food, spilled drinks, and broken dishes. Chairs were overturned and silverware was scattered all over the place. Anger rose in the Snow Queen's chest. "Excuse me? Who said you could help yourself to our food and drink?"

Hans rolled his eyes. "Well, it's my home too, isn't it? If I'm gonna live here, might as well start getting acquainted with what's mine." He tossed a grape high into the air, and caught it in his mouth. "On that note, where is our lucky girl?"

"I'll do it."

Hans nearly choked on the grape. "Excuse me?"

"You will not touch a hair on my sister's head. Take me in her place," Elsa repeated, her face pale but determined.

 _Henrik, you clever bastard. The witch played right into our hands!_ Hans tried to act surprised. "What? Are you kidding me? You would sacrifice yourself for your stupid brat of a sister, and that dirty peasant she's married to?"

"Don't talk about Anna like that!" Elsa's cheeks flushed crimson with rage. The nerve of this man! How she wished she could slap the smirk off his face. "Kristoff may not have a drop of royal blood, but he is ten times the man you will ever be!"

"Yeah, whatever. Just answer the question. Are you or are you not agreeing to marry me?" Hans was thoroughly enjoying himself. As Elsa's beautiful face contorted with every agonized grimace, as her cheeks reddened and her nose scrunched up with every tear that threatened to fall, his heart pounded excitedly. A sadistic wave of pleasure coursed through his veins. The pathetic thirteenth prince was toying with the mighty Snow Queen. He had power over her emotions. Before long, he would have power over every aspect of her life.

Elsa blinked back tears and fought to maintain her calm, regal facade. But she could not suppress the tremor from her voice. Finally, she drew a long, quavering breath and uttered her own death sentence. "Yes, Hans. I will marry you." There. She said it. The deed was done, and there was no turning back.

Hans patted her condescendingly on the shoulder. "Good girl. I knew you'd come around." His sinister laugh echoed loudly as he danced out the door and vanished into the hallway.

* * *

Safe behind the sanctuary of her door, Elsa allowed herself to cry. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto the floor in icy puddles. Sobs wracked her chest, and a violent gust of anguish and remorse tore through her entire body.

Logically, her grief made no sense. Her engagement to Hans was simply the fruition of what she had known all her life. Many years ago, Elsa had accepted that a loveless political marriage was all she could ever aspire for. Events of late had only served to confirm that belief. Why was this new development so upsetting, when it wasn't truly news at all?

Perhaps there was a small part of her that hoped for more. Though Elsa would never admit it, there was a tiny voice buried deep within the labyrinth of her subconscious, which dared to hope. Elsa couldn't deny that she had never at least tried to imagine how it would feel to fall in love. How her life might be if she had someone who looked at her the way Kristoff looked at Anna, with a boyish smile and eyes glowing with affection. How she longed for a child to love and spoil to pieces.

The hours crept by. Elsa had not enjoyed a minute of peaceful sleep since Hans had arrived in Arendelle, and now she was on the verge of collapsing from fatigue. But her aching heart and spinning mind denied her a moment of rest.

"I'm sorry, Anna," she mumbled miserably. "This isn't your fault, it's mine. It's my fault you fell for Hans. I'm the one who pushed you into his arms. If I had been half the sister and friend you deserved, you wouldn't have been so desperate for companionship. Now here I am once again, hiding behind a closed door, behind the sanctuary of my own cowardice. Running and hiding is all I've ever been good at, anyways."

The sun began to rise over the snow-capped peaks, bathing the Kingdom of Arendelle in a soft golden glow. But Elsa hardly noticed. Time stood still, like snowflakes suspended in midair, as she continued to grieve.

Elsa buried her face between both knees, and let the tears saturate her nightgown. "Henrik was right. I am a monster."

So consumed she was by her misery, Elsa failed to realize that she was no longer alone. She was barely cognizant of the soft pattering of approaching footsteps, or a pair of eyes peeking through the door that she forgot to close completely. Until finally, a hand rested on her shoulder. Elsa turned her tear-streaked face aside. It was Dr. Helmholtz.

Elsa could have died of embarrassment! But she also felt strangely comforted by his presence. Somehow, she felt no need to put on a brave face in front of him. So she put up no resistance and allowed him to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Elsa, what's wrong?" The blonde shook her head mutely and turned her face away, avoiding all eye contact.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"You've been crying for the past twelve hours. I heard you."

Elsa sighed. "I guess I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed." The Snow Queen had never been one to discuss her emotions openly. But something compelled her to keep talking. There was something powerful yet intangible about Dr. Helmholtz that made her want to open her heart and lay bare her vulnerabilities.

"Dr. Helmholtz," she began tentatively.

"Brian."

Elsa was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Dr. Helmholtz smiled warmly. "You may call me Brian. Like you said, there's no need for formalities."

"All right then, Brian. Have you ever been in a position where you felt completely powerless and not in control of anything? How do you motivate yourself to keep going, when nothing you do is ever enough? When you can't seem to do anything right?"

The young physician gave a hollow laugh. "Those idiots who say that hard work plus good intentions equals happy ending. I know that feeling quite well. I wasted away the better half of my life worrying about always trying to do the right thing and trying to please everyone. Then I realized that no matter who you are or what you do, people will always—"

"Hey!" A loud, abrasive voice suddenly interrupted. They both turned to find Hans standing in the threshold, with his arms crossed. Hans strode into the room and glared daggers at the strange man who had an arm around Elsa's shoulders. "Whoever you are, get your hands off of her."

Brian could only gape wordlessly at the auburn-haired man. Questions exploded in his mind like an array of unsynchronized fireworks, as his mind reeled in utter confusion. "Prince Hans?" he managed to sputter. "What are you—"

"That'll be _King Hans_ to you!" Hans grinned smugly. Before Dr. Helmholtz could verbalize his confusion, Hans set him straight. "That's right. The witch is mine. If you know what's good for you, don't ever let me catch you with her again!"

"Elsa is not a witch! She's an angel!" The doctor spat furiously, rising to his feet. At six-foot-three and seventeen stone, the royal physician was about the same size and build as Kristoff. He glowered menacingly at the red-haired prince. He had no idea what Hans was doing in Arendelle, or why Elsa was marrying him. But he wasn't going to stand for this.

But Hans was not fazed. "Elsa? So you're on a first name basis with the witch? I'll show you what happens to people who disrespect King Hans of Arendelle, you son of a—"

Just as abruptly as he appeared, Hans suddenly stopped mid-sentence. His face was white as a sheet, as if he had seen a ghost. "Wait a minute, have we met?" Hans peered intently into the doctor's light gray eyes, scrutinizing his every feature. "I swear I've seen you before."

Elsa spoke up. "This is Dr. Helmholtz, the royal physician of Arendelle."

"Doctor?" Hans repeated incredulously. "I knew it! What's your name?"

"None of your business," Brian asserted coldly.

"Hmph!" Hans scoffed. "I think it's you who needs to mind your own business. If I ever catch you with my wife again, you're a dead man!" Without another word or gesture, Hans grabbed Elsa by the arm and marched her out of the room.

* * *

Elsa cried out in pain as Hans dragged her roughly down the hallway. "Stop that! You're hurting me!" She struggled to get loose, but he was far too strong. Hans spun her around and flung her through the air. Elsa careened across the room and collided hard against the wall of the castle library. Her shoulder was on the verge of dislocation. Elsa could have sworn that her arm had been ripped out of its socket, and the rotator cuff had been torn cleanly in two.

Hans thrust his leg backwards and kicked the door shut. "What did you think you were doing?"

"I did nothing wrong!" Elsa shouted, furiously massaging her injured shoulder. "Dr. Helmholtz saw that I was upset, and came to comfort me. That's all that happened!"

"You are my wife, and I will not tolerate you fraternizing with any strange men! In case I haven't made myself clear, nobody disrespects King Hans of Arendelle! Talk back to me one more time, and I'll beat the daylights out of you!"

"I'm your fiancée, not your wife! And definitely not your property!" Elsa fired back. "Let me remind you that you are a King in name only, and you have no right to treat people that way!"

Hans grabbed Elsa by one ear, and whipped her around to face him. His nose was mere inches away from hers. "What on earth possessed you to cry in public, where anyone could have seen you? Could you not be bothered to at least close the door? I will not having you moping and crying and blowing our cover!"

Elsa rolled her eyes sardonically. "Oh gee, why would I be moping and crying? Could it be that I'm being forced to spend the rest of my life with a monster of a man? Excuse me for forgetting to _close the door_."

Hans cracked his knuckles. "If you ever blow our cover again, I'll give you something to cry about. Now get out of my sight!"

As Elsa swept out of the room and left Hans alone to his thoughts, the thirteenth prince paced back and forth uneasily, swearing under his breath and running his fingers through his hair. Something was off about this Dr. Helmholtz. Hans was positive that he had met the man before. But where? Those eyes and that voice… they somehow managed to trigger a hidden faculty of his subconscious, resurrect ghosts from his past that had perished long ago. Nothing was more aggravating than a wisp of memory that tauntingly danced just barely beyond the scope of recollection. He might as well be chasing the wind.

One thought emerged clear above the rest. Hans had a mission to complete, and no one—not even the mysterious, meddlesome Dr. Helmholtz—was getting in his way.

 **Please read and review! Chapter 7 is up next!**


	7. A Mind-Blowing Revelation

**Guest:** **Thank you for such a long and comprehensive review! You're right; Hans probably is a little too juvenile at this point. The real Hans would be "elegant filth" as opposed to the drooling brute I've portrayed him as so far. He's acting more like a school bully than like a criminal mastermind. The origins of Hans' behavior will be made clearer in this chapter and the next, as we delve more into his psychology and personal history! There is a reason he's acting this way.**

 **Also, thank you for reminding me that Elsa needs to create a convincing explanation to the public, as to why she's marrying Hans. That will be coming up soon!**

 **September 7, 2016 edit: Hans humor and profanity removed**

 **Chapter 7:**

As Elsa filed away the last bit of paperwork, she sighed and massaged her sore knuckles. But the real pain was in her heart. In three days, she would be announcing her betrothal to Hans, and next week, she would be at the altar announcing her marriage vows to that despicable man. Her head also ached, as she struggled to decipher her current situation. What motivated Hans and Henrik in their pursuit?

"Why was Henrik so adamant about Hans and Anna marrying?" she wondered aloud. "Henrik is a man of lofty ambitions. What could he possibly be trying to gain from this union? Maybe a trade agreement? Perhaps he is after our riches? We _are_ a very wealthy kingdom, and the Southern Isles lost several trade partners in the wake of Hans' little debacle. But they've managed to stay afloat regardless…"

Suddenly, it dawned. "Henrik was very quick to point out that I could offer myself in Anna's stead. It's almost as if he was trying to goad me into that alternative. There was a very peculiar glint in his eye when he made that statement. His comments were so vitriolic and accusatory, as if he was trying to guilt me… make me feel obligated to take that path. _Yes!_ That is what he was after! He _knew_ that I would make that choice if presented with it! He was intending for Hans to marry _me_ all along!"

"But why? What could Henrik gain by helping Hans become King of Arendelle? Henrik doesn't even like Hans. In fact, none of Hans' brothers like him. Perhaps Hans is here to spy on us? To steal our goods?" Elsa racked her brains and rubbed her tired, aching eyes. It simply made no sense. There were infinite possibilities, and no further leads.

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck six. Anna and Kristoff would soon be returning from their ice harvesting trip, just in time for dinner. Elsa raced down the stairs and towards the stables to meet them. She giggled to herself and tucked a couple snowballs discreetly into her cloak. _Anna may have won the prank war, but I'll show her that I've got one last trick up my sleeve! Literally!_ The past few days had been incredibly rough, and Elsa was dying to have some fun.

* * *

One of the stable boys was bent over double, woefully prodding at what seemed to be a flat tire on his bicycle. As Elsa made her way gracefully across the courtyard, the lad dropped his bike and dipped into a clumsy bow. "Your Majesty."

Elsa smiled warmly at the young man and gestured for him to rise. He seemed to be only about fourteen years old. She vaguely recognized him as a new hire, as her recollections of him only went back a few weeks. "Please stand. You may just call me Elsa." The Snow Queen did not like to see people groveling at her feet.

The boy chuckled awkwardly and straightened up, dusting off his trousers. "Can I call you Frosty?" he blurted. No sooner had the words escaped his lips, his hands flew over his mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It just slipped out. That was an awful joke. Forgive me, Your— _Elsa_. Well, I don't mean _your_ , as in yours or mine, but you know… what I meant is…" His fair complexion flushed crimson, as his train of thought derailed into a hopeless mess of incoherent babbling and awkward stammers.

 _Just like Kristoff was when we first met him,_ Elsa thought affectionately. In both appearance and demeanor, the stable boy was just a smaller version of her dear brother-in-law. Already, Elsa was growing fond of the child. "Frosty is fine, too."

The boy was instantly at ease. "My name is Matthias. I come here after school every day. My father owns a ranch, and he taught me how to ride a horse when I was five." His attention returned to his bike, as he continued trying to salvage the flat tire. But his efforts were painfully inefficient and ineffective. Matthias gave the bike frame a frustrated little kick. "Someone let the air out of my tires. It'll be two weeks before I save enough to buy a pump."

Elsa understood his frustration. Nothing was more aggravating than to be robbed of one's mobility, to feel powerless and entrapped. A person's mode of transportation, be it their bicycle, carriage, or steed, was the ultimate embodiment of their freedom and empowerment. To be deprived of it was to rob an individual of his social and financial autonomy. Without a set of wheels or hooves, a man could not feed his family.

Besides, Matthias was correct. Tire pumps were indeed costly, and the young lad could certainly do with an early Christmas gift. Elsa reached into her pocket and withdrew a single gold coin. She laid it gently in the boy's palm.

Matthias turned brick red once again. The offer was nearly irresistible, but how could he take advantage of her generosity like that? "Oh no, I couldn't possibly… you're too kind…"

"Go on," Elsa urged gently. "You're a hard worker, and you deserve a break."

As the boy vacillated between accepting and declining her offer, a new idea crossed his mind. His eyes sparkled with inspiration. "Wait a minute. Do you think you could make a tire pump out of ice?"

Elsa had studied plenty of math and physics in her youth. With her strong interest in geometry, she was particularly adept at spatial perception in three dimensions. After some careful planning and some mental sketches and computation, a working tire pump soon materialized in her palms.

"Whoa…" Matthias held the icy contraption gently in his hands, gazing reverently upon its beautiful design and flawless workmanship. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen. It's so perfect…" Elsa was almost blushing at his effusive praise. As he began inflating the flat tire, his eyes remained transfixed on the valves that opened and closed in perfect synchronization, on the piston that glided effortlessly along its track. But it was the beauty of the ice that truly took his breath away. The beautiful, flawless ice that shone like diamonds and reflected a dancing kaleidoscope of colors beneath the setting sun.

Finally, the job was done. Matthias handed Elsa the tire pump, nearly dropping it three times in the process. "Thank you, Elsa! See you tomorrow!" He bowed clumsily and hopped onto his bike, giving her a cheery wave before zipping down the streets and out of sight.

* * *

Elsa was nearly at the top of the stairs, when a hand sprang out from around the corner and wrapped itself tightly around her wrist. Hans' smirking face came into view.

Hans aimed the hose of the tire pump straight at Elsa's face, and unleashed a steady stream of air. The gusty wind sent Elsa's neat blonde hair flying in all directions. "Nice hairdo, Frosty," he sneered. His voice dripped with smugness and vitriol. Hans placed Elsa's hand on the piston and pushed down again. Another gust of wind assaulted her face, ripping her braid apart. "Hey Frosty, I'm messing up your hair. Aren't you gonna stop me?"

"Hans, stop that!" Elsa finally managed to find her voice again. She tried to wriggle free, but Hans tightened his grip, grinning wickedly.

"Whoa Frosty, did you get into a fight with a lawn mower? Because your hair certainly looks like it." Hans pumped some more air into Elsa's face.

"Hans, leave me alone!" Elsa thrashed about vigorously, but Hans refused to let go. He gave her his most repulsive smirk as he blasted some more air into her face. His countenance was a picture of pure bliss as the wind slashed through her delicate blonde locks. Two minutes ago, not a single hair was out of place. Now Elsa's hair was a hopeless mess of twisted and knotted threads.

Elsa stomped on Hans' foot as hard as she could. "Let me go, you big bully! Or I'll freeze you where you stand!" She tugged vigorously on her arm, desperately trying to free it from his grip.

Still, the thirteenth prince refused to relent. He tightened his hold and continued to smirk. "Hey Frosty, if you want to get away, you're gonna have to try harder than that."

In a fit of frustration, Elsa threw her entire weight into attempting to break free from Hans' grip. She kicked and thrashed so vigorously, her arm was nearly torn from its socket. Forsaking her royal dignity, Elsa repeatedly tried to fling her body onto the floor, until she resembled a child throwing a tantrum in a candy store. But all that mattered to her was getting as far away from Hans as possible.

Finally, Hans decided that he'd had enough fun. "Have it your way, Frosty!" As Elsa gave a particularly vehement tug, Hans abruptly let go of her arm, sending her plunging down the staircase.

Elsa cried out in pain as her body repeatedly slammed against the rough stone. Each time her back or shoulder hit a step, its jagged asperities tore through her dress and drew blood. The further she fell, the more rapidly she continued to fall, and increasingly lost control of her body. As she rounded a corner and collided excruciatingly against a particularly rough and angular protrusion of stone, Elsa emitted a shrill scream of agony. Lights exploded before her eyes. She could feel—and almost hear—one of her shoulder blade shatter like glass. Her vision was blurring and she was feeling strangely lightheaded. But she had hardly a second to regain her bearings, before she reached the bottom of the stairwell. Elsa landed awkwardly on one ankle with a sickening crunch. The delicate white skin instantly turned a mottled burgundy color and swelled to a monstrous size, from the fluids seeping from dozens of ruptured arteries. Elsa lay on the ground in a heap, writhing in agony as she pitifully clutched at her battered body.

Hans began to tauntingly sing, "Witchy Frosty, sat on a wall. Witchy Frosty, had a great fall—"

But before Hans could continue his song, he suddenly groaned in pain and sank to the ground. The front of his shirt was spattered with blood. The thirteenth prince clutched at his broken nose as he spat out curse after curse through gritted teeth.

Doctor Helmholtz stood at the top of the stairwell, fists clenched and shaking. "Prince Hans, what is your problem?" he demanded.

The auburn-haired man rose to his feet truculently. "I told you to mind your own business, didn't I?"

"This _is_ my business!" The two men were now standing inches apart, as they continued jawing at each other.

Elsa winced in pain as she clambered to sit up straight. It hurt to even speak. "Brian, let's go. He's not worth it."

"Brian?" Hans repeated incredulously. His eyes grew wide as saucers and his jaw dropped. "I knew it! How dare you show your face around here?"

Elsa eyed the doctor curiously. "Brian, what is he talking about?"

Brian ignored her, as he continued addressing Hans. "I have no idea what you mean by that," he asserted in a cold, emotionless tone. However, there was the slightest trace of consternation in his eyes, and a barely audible crackle in his voice. "But what I do know is that you are a guest in this castle, and you've completely overstayed your welcome. Now go home and never return."

Hans' lips twisted into a mean little smirk. "Maybe _you_ should go home first... If only you still had one…"

Whatever those cryptic words meant, they certainly were powerful. Brian completely lost his mind. A haze of red clouded his vision and adrenaline pounded in his veins. He threw himself at Hans and the two men rolled about, exchanging punches, kicks, and four-letter words. Flecks of blood and sweat flew through the air as Hans and Doctor Helmholtz became a veritable typhoon of flailing limbs. After a few tense seconds, Brian gained the upper hand. The muscles stood out like knotted cords down the length of his arms, as he began pinning Hans to the ground. But the thirteenth prince would not go down without a fight, as he prepared to throw another punch…

"Enough!" A loud, commanding voice reverberated throughout the castle walls. Henrik had just arrived on scene. The elder Westergard seized Hans by the shirt collar, and yanked him out of the tussle. Without another word, the two brothers began marching away.

"What did I tell you about causing trouble?" Henrik hissed furiously, as soon as they were out of earshot. "Your reputation in Arendelle is already precarious at best. Didn't I tell you to keep a low profile and not create any controversy, _until your marriage vows were secured_? You can do whatever you want with the witch after she's yours, but until then, you are to be on your best behavior!"

Henrik suddenly whirled around and grabbed Hans around the neck, glaring into his eyes. "I am not going to have my plans ruined just because you can't stop acting like a sophomoric idiot. Do I make myself clear?"

The younger man swallowed nervously. "Yes sir," he managed to squeak.

* * *

Elsa was passing through the guest wing of the castle, limping awkwardly and lopsidedly, on her way to bed. Her entire body still ached terribly, and she could hardly move her limbs. Even breathing was difficult. In the wake of Hans throwing her down the stairs, she had sustained dozens of scrapes and bruises, in addition to a cracked scapula and two broken ribs in her back. The ankle was sprained, but thankfully not broken. Considering how she had fallen ten meters onto a hard stony ground, Elsa considered herself lucky to even be standing.

People had died from far more superficial injuries. But in spite of the dreadful prognosis, Dr. Helmholtz has managed to carefully treat her wounds to ensure a complete recovery. It would only be a matter of time before she was healthy and whole again. Physically, at least.

The blonde smiled to herself. Brian was truly a miracle worker. The best of the best. He had been so caring and patient when taking care of her.

Elsa was nearly at the end of the hallway, when some strange whispers began emanating from behind Hans' closed door. Curious, she stopped dead in her tracks. Perhaps this could be her chance at figuring out what Hans and Henrik were up to! She crept closer, careful not to make a sound.

Indeed, two men were conversing in heated whispers. She immediately recognized one voice as belonging to Hans. The other voice was Dr. Helmholtz! Elsa pressed her ear to the wall and began to listen.

Hans' voice cackled derisively. "What's the matter, Lard Butt? Back for round two? Didn't get your butt beat enough times? Didn't get your face shoved into manure enough times? Hans dissolved into a fit of high-pitched childish giggles as he continued to issue a bunch of incredibly juvenile insults.

"Hans, you're making a big mistake." Brian's voice trembled with anger and frustration, although he tried his best to remain calm. "You might think Henrik is your ally, but the truth is he really couldn't care less about you."

Hans suddenly lost his jocular attitude, and became terse and snappish. "Henrik is giving me a crown, a kingdom, and a chance at revenge. That's more than what anyone's ever done for me."

A fist was heard slamming against a piece of furniture. Dr. Helmholtz was almost yelling at this point. "Don't be an idiot! You really think Henrik is doing this out of goodwill? Are you really so naïve, you think he actually cares about what _you_ want? Henrik is one of the most cunning, ruthless, absolutely despicable men the world has ever seen. You and I know that better than anyone. Henrik needs you to execute the first part of his plan. That's the only reason he's pretending to care about you right now. The moment he gets what he wants, he'll toss you aside like a piece of rubbish. I guarantee it."

Hans' anger flared to life. "How dare you judge me? How dare you tell me how to live my life? You have no idea what I've been through! I've had nothing all my life, been bullied and pushed around and marginalized since the day I was born! Now I finally get a chance to make something out of myself, and you want me to lose everything, and go back to being poor pathetic helpless little Hansie... just for the sake of _morals_ and _principles_? I've fought my whole life to extricate myself from the absolutely dreadful circumstances I was—through no choosing of my own—born into, and you're telling me that I'm wrong?"

"Wait a minute, Hans," Brian cut in. "You don't have to be—"

Hans continued in a fast and furious tone. With each passing word, his voice rose dramatically in volume and harshness. "I've been weak and I've been strong. I've been rich and I've been poor. I've been powerless and I've been in power. Most importantly, I've been bullied my whole life, and now it's finally my turn to be the bully. And I can tell you that it's a million times better to be on this side of things! Nothing you say will ever convince me to give up what I have now!"

As Dr. Helmholtz kicked the door open and stomped down the hallway, Elsa raced to catch up with him. "Brian, what's going on here?"

"Nothing," he responded curtly.

Elsa assumed a more urgent tone. "Brian, don't tell me it's nothing. You clearly know something about Hans, and I have the right to know as well. In fact, I _need_ to know. Hans is a threat to this kingdom."

Brian sighed. From the moment he saw Hans in Arendelle, he knew he'd have to come clean sooner or later. He just didn't expect the time to come so soon.

"You're right," he admitted. "I do know something about Hans."

Elsa's eyes widened inquisitively. "Hans claims to have met you before."

Brian nodded grimly. "My father was a frequent visitor to the Southern Isles for business. A long time ago, I knew Hans Westergard." A mist of despondence suddenly clouded up his features, and he hung his head in shame. "In fact, I practically grew up with him."


	8. The Making of a Monster

**Guest** **(s), thank you for your valuable feedback! Let me address some of your inquiries and concerns:**

 **Hans will be given several chances to redeem himself before it's too late. After all he's been through, I really want to give him a fair shot at turning around. But unfortunately, he won't do it.**

 **Attempted rape is where I draw the line. I promise that it won't go further than that.**

 **If you want to know whether or not Hans will survive, feel free to PM me, and I will be happy to provide spoilers as desired!**

 **WARNING: Please have a box of tissues ready. We are about to explore Brian and Hans' shared childhood.**

 **September 7, 2016 edit:** **Profanity (from Henrik in the flashback) removed**

 **Chapter 8:**

For a few dumbfounded seconds, Elsa could only stare at Brian wordlessly, her mouth hanging open. There were so many things she wanted to ask. So many things she was dying to find out. But all she could manage was a single, raspy syllable. "How?"

Brian took her gently by the hand and began to walk her towards his office. "Come with me, Elsa. There's something I have to tell you." His voice was laden with melancholy. Elsa could also detect an undercurrent of guilt.

Neither of them spoke a word, until they were safely behind the locked door of the doctor's office. After confirming that they were indeed all alone, the royal physician began his story. "My father and I used to be frequent visitors to the Southern isles. We would live in their castle for a few days every month, as my father conducted his business. He was close friends with the late King Joseph. He was wise and fair, beloved by all his subjects. But he wasn't such a great father. Joseph was so busy with his royal duties, he hardly had any time to raise his thirteen sons. The nannies and servants did what they could, but they had no real authority. So the boys were free to do as they pleased."

Elsa looked intrigued, but made no motion to interrupt. Brian continued, "As a kid, I was short, overweight, and socially awkward. I was always pretty clever, but those smarts were strictly limited to books and classrooms. In the real world, I was very naïve. I never had any clue what was going on around me, and I could never tell if someone was trying to manipulate me. The Westergards were well aware of that. The middle brothers, who were close to my age or slightly older, bullied me relentlessly. Every time, I would beg and cry to not be dragged along on these visits. But my father insisted that I come."

There was a distinct crackle in his voice, as Brian dredged up painful recollections that he had worked long and hard to repress. Elsa patted him comfortingly on the arm. "I'm so sorry. I never knew…"

"Things took a turn when I was eight years old. Hans was two at the time. One day, he climbed onto a high shelf to reach a jar of cookies. He accidentally knocked over a kerosene lamp and caused an enormous fire in the kitchen. His mother ran inside to save him. Hans sustained only minor injuries, but she had third-degree burns to almost every inch of her skin. She died a week later. Everyone blamed Hans and completely turned against him. After that, the Westergards bullied Hans and left me alone for the most part."

"Poor Hans," Elsa whispered softly. There was genuine sympathy in her eyes. "It's no wonder… The poor kid never had a chance." She paused for a moment, before raising an inquiry. "Did you interact much with Henrik when he was young? Before he inherited the throne?"

"No!" Brian shouted forcefully. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. That came out much harsher than he intended.

Elsa eyed him strangely. "Brian, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Can we not talk about Henrik?" Brian tried his hardest to maintain a steady, calm tone. But he couldn't completely suppress the agitation from his voice. Elsa nodded respectfully and did not pry further, although she was getting quite curious. Brian was a very even-tempered man. Why would he lose his cool at the mere mention of Henrik's name?

Dr. Helmholtz gave a low, mirthless laugh. "When they bullied me in the past, it was very typical playground bullying. But with Hans, they were absolutely vicious. I still wince when I think about the things they did to him."

"But what truly keeps me awake at night… are the things that _I_ did to him."

* * *

 _Many many years ago, when Hans was still an innocent little boy…_

Ten year-old Jason Westergard grinned as he crouched down behind the plywood fence, with a toy shotgun in hand. One of his favorite pastimes was to shoot or throw rocks at the animals in the local petting zoo, then relish in the indignant reactions. The young prince would smirk irreverently as an adult delivered a lengthy pontification about common courtesy, or as a horde of angry little girls berated him for "being mean to cute fluffy animals."

His royal status allowed him to act with complete impunity. No matter how upset people were, they were powerless to interfere with his little game.

Jason slid the barrel of his weapon through a crack between the planks, and pulled the trigger. A wooden pellet catapulted through the air and struck a beige-colored rabbit squarely on the rump. The terrified animal bounded about frantically for several seconds, before retreating into its hutch. A chorus of annoyed shouts arose from several staff members and visitors.

His brother, eight year-old Francis, sniggered triumphantly. "Right in the butt!" The younger boy grabbed his own shotgun and began to take aim. "I'm gonna hit that baby goat between the eyes."

"My turn, my turn!" a childish voice suddenly babbled. Jason and Francis spun around and emitted simultaneous groans, as they beheld the source of the interruption. Three year-old Hans was toddling forward with his pudgy little hands held out.

Jason sighed in aggravation. "Okay, whose brilliant idea was it to invite Hans?"

"Not me!" Francis protested. "I hate that loser!"

"My turn!" Hans cooed again, oblivious to the animosity directed his way. "I wanna play too!" He reached for one of the wooden shotguns.

Francis pushed him back rudely. "Go away, Hans. We don't want you here!"

"No fair!" the three year-old whined, his eyes brimming with tears. "I wanna play!"

Jason smirked as a brilliant idea began dawning upon him. Of course they wanted to play with Hans… as long as Hans volunteered himself to be the game piece. "All right, Hansie. We'll let you play with us. Under one condition."

Hans instantly perked up. "You will?" he chirped, with hope shining in his bright green eyes.

Jason smiled knowingly. "You have to show us that you're cool enough to play. You have to complete… a mission. And the first part of the mission is to eat some magic pills."

Francis nodded, improvising quickly. "The magic pills are right here!" He pointed to a pile of rabbit droppings lying adjacent to the fence. "And they look just like raisins!"

Hans picked up a single pellet in his chubby little fingers, and slipped it into his mouth. "Can I play now?"

Jason shook his head, suppressing a snort of laughter. "Nope! You have to eat them all. Otherwise you can't play with us."

Hans slowly amassed a pile of rabbit droppings in his palm, and began swallowing them one by one. "Yummy yummy raisins," he cooed softly.

Hans had eaten about a dozen rabbit droppings, when Francis could suppress his laughter no longer. The eight year-old collapsed to the ground, coughing and sputtering, on the verge of hyperventilation. "Hans ate rabbit poop!" he managed to squeal. "Hans ate rabbit poop!"

Jason was laughing too at this point. "Hans ate rabbit poop and thought they were raisins!" he hollered loud enough for everyone in their vicinity to hear. "What an idiot! Hey Hans, did you know that reindeer poop is made of chocolate? Maybe you should eat that too!"

Heads began to turn as the boys continued to prattle. Before long, everyone knew of Hans' embarrassing little gaffe. As much as they sympathized with the youngest prince for being so cruelly manipulated, they couldn't help chuckling at his predicament. Soon the entire town square was thick with hysterical giggles and pointing fingers.

Hans' lower lip quivered and his nose reddened, as a single tear slid down one cheek. Both eyes glistened with tears of heartbreak and betrayal, as he realized what had just happened. The little boy buried his face in both hands, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably as he ran home.

. . . . . . . .

Brian sat on a park bench, watching as five year-old Hans danced out the front door of the ice cream shop, with a two-scoop cone in hand. The little boy was smiling from ear to ear. He had saved his pocket money all week to finally indulge himself. The youngest Prince of the Southern Isles slurped ravenously at the succulent mounds of creamy goodness, sending every taste bud into an adrenaline-fueled euphoria.

Hans was so deeply immersed in the sugary treat, he failed to notice a foreboding presence lurking behind him. Until the cone was abruptly snatched from his fingers.

Fifteen year-old Phillip Westergard sneered maliciously as he dangled the ice cream cone high out of reach. "Well, well, well… that's a nice ice cream you've got there, Hansie."

"Give it back!" Hans hopped up and down, furiously swiping his hands through the air. "It's mine!"

"It _was_ yours," Phillip corrected with a haughty smirk. "Ever heard of the term, _finders keepers_? If you want it, then you'll have to get it back!"

"Give it back!" Hans screamed again, his countenance reddening and tears of frustration starting to cloud his eyes.

"Oh Hans… haven't you ever learned how to _share_? If only Mama were still alive… maybe she could teach you how to share."

"Please!" Hans sobbed, his anger giving way to desperation. "Just let me have it! I bought it with my own money!" Hans turned his grief-stricken face to lock eyes with Brian, pleading for the latter to intercede on his behalf. But Brian could not move a muscle, as he sat petrified and frozen by the ghosts of his past. Until Hans came along, he had been the prime target of the Westergards' cruel antics.

Phillip reached into his pocket with a flourish, and withdrew a box of matches. He lit a match and gave Hans his haughtiest smirk, before beginning to melt the ice cream. The sticky slop began to flow all over the ground.

"Stop it!" Hans shrieked. He kicked furiously at Phillip's shins and stomped on his feet, but the older boy wouldn't budge. Melted ice cream continued to trickle down.

"Aww, what's the matter, Hansie?" Phillip sneered cruelly. "Scared of a little fire? I don't blame you. After all, if it wasn't for _your_ fire, Mama would still be alive."

By now, Hans was crying too hard to hear anything. Brian winced sympathetically at the horrible plight of the thirteenth prince, but he dared not speak in protest. Everyone knew that little Prince Hans was ubiquitously despised by the rest of the royal family, and nobody dared challenge that consensus.

Finally, Phillip decided he'd had enough fun. He reached forward and smashed the sticky remains of the ice cream cone onto the front of Hans' shirt. "Maybe you can lick the rest of the ice cream off the sidewalk!" On that note, the elder Westergard spun on his heels and strode away.

But Hans' troubles had only begun. When he arrived back home later in the afternoon, he had hardly managed to step through the castle gates, when his nanny Mrs. Peterson marched forward to meet him. Her eyes bulged with horror and indignation as she saw the disastrous mess of ice cream that stained his attire. "Prince Hans!" she gasped. "How could you? This shirt was a gift from Grandma last Christmas, and it cost her a fortune!"

Hans wiped away a tear. "It was Phillip," he managed through an uncontrollable fit of sniffles and hiccups. "H-he took my… my ice cr-cream, and… and m-melted it… and th-threw it all over… all over my shirt."

Mrs. Peterson eyed him quizzically. "Your brother Phillip? He did _that_ to you?" Hans nodded through his tears.

The portly, middle-aged woman pursed her lips, and said nothing for several seconds. "Let me go talk to your brother. Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding." She turned to exit the room, leaving Hans alone to wallow in his misery.

Moments later, she was back with Phillip in tow. Mrs. Peterson questioned him sternly. "Prince Phillip, Hans told me that you were being very mean to him today. He said you took his ice cream. What happened?"

Phillip smiled. "Well ma'am, our little Hans has a very active imagination," he lied smoothly. "All I did was politely remind Hans to be careful with his ice cream. I asked him to tuck a napkin into his collar before eating. But Hans thought I was bossing him around, so he threw a huge tantrum. He lay on the ground kicking and screaming, and got ice cream all over his shirt. That's what happened."

"That's not true!" Hans wailed. "Phillip stole my ice cream and melted it with his candle! Then he threw it on my shirt!"

Phillip patted Hans patronizingly on the head. "Hans, remember what Papa taught us about honesty? A good boy always tells the truth, even when it hurts."

"I _am_ telling the truth!" Hans screamed hysterically, stamping his little feet up and down. His face flushed crimson and tears began to stream down his cheeks once more.

"You see, Mrs. Peterson? Hans has the tendency to throw tantrums whenever he hears something he doesn't like."

The nanny sighed deeply and rubbed her weary eyes. "I don't know what to believe. Perhaps we should go talk to your father."

Just at that moment, Brian happened to be passing through the adjacent hallway. Hans suddenly raced forward to intercept him. The littlest Prince of the Southern Isles grabbed him by the hand. "Brian, you were there! Tell her what happened!"

Mrs. Peterson looked him in the eye. "Brian, is Hans telling the truth?"

Brian opened his mouth and prepared to speak. To defend the truth and protest bullying. To corroborate what Hans had said, and have his bastard brother brought to justice. But before he could utter a single word, he caught a blur of motion out the corner of one eye.

Phillip was glaring malevolently at him from behind the older woman's back. He clenched his jaw and slid an index finger neatly across his neck. Suddenly, Brian was intimidated into silence. Years of insecurity and fear came crashing down upon his head, vanquishing every last bit of courage. All he could do was shrug his shoulders and slink out of the room, like the sniveling coward he was.

And all Brian could do was cover his ears and scrunch his eyes shut, as the fruit of his cowardice blossomed. The air was soon thick with Hans' agonized screams, Mrs. Peterson's angry reprimands, and the earsplitting rhythm of a wooden paddle against a child's backside.

. . . . . . . .

"Henrik?" Seven year-old Hans began timidly, "Can you help me with my math homework? I don't get it." His eyes were wide and imploring as he tugged at his eldest brother's sleeve.

Crown Prince Henrik gave an irritated growl. "Leave me alone, Hans! I've got things to do!"

King Joseph of the Southern Isles turned to face his oldest son and heir. "Henrik, I'm sure you can spare a little bit of time to help your brother," he said firmly but gently.

Henrik swore under his breath. "But Hans always asks the dumbest questions!"

Joseph raised his eyebrows. "Henrik, patience is an important virtue to learn. When you inherit the throne one day, most of your time will be spent discussing and explaining your point of view to other people— _without losing your temper_. There's no reason you can't practice with your brother right now."

As a child and adolescent, Henrik's academic skills had always been at least three years ahead of what was typical of students his age. Now in his mid-twenties, Henrik was quickly growing into a masterful statesman. His political and economic acumen was absolutely impeccable. Rhetoric was his strongest suit, as Henrik possessed the uncanny ability of speech that could manipulate anyone into thinking and believing whatever he wanted them to. The Crown Prince certainly did not need any practice with his oratory skills. It was patience and empathy that Joseph wanted Henrik to learn.

Henrik shrugged. "Fine," he responded tersely. He seated himself at the library desk across from Hans, and flipped open a book full of very rudimentary math problems. As they settled in, Joseph left the room to attend a meeting.

"Are you kidding me?" Henrik snapped, as soon as their father was out of earshot. "You think _this_ is hard? I learned this when I was five!" He let out an exasperated sigh. It was bad enough that he had to spend the day with Hans, when he could have been visiting the brothels or gambling at the taverns. Henrik mentally cursed his father and brother a thousand times over. He was determined to make Hans suffer for wasting his time.

"Four times eight." Henrik's tone was short and snappish as he jabbed his pen at the paper.

Hans paused for a moment. "Twelve?"

"No!" Henrik slammed his fists on the table in frustration. "I said _times_ , not _plus_! Do you ever pay attention? Or are you just a complete and utter idiot?"

"I'm sorry!" Hans wailed. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid. Please, teach me how to be smart like you! Then we can go outside and play."

"You'd better be sorry!" Henrik roared, spraying Hans with spit. "Thanks to you, I'm stuck in this library when I could be off having fun! Teaching you how to be smart? I'd have better luck talking to a rock or a tree."

The younger boy's lower lip quivered and his nose reddened, as a single tear slid down the side of his face. Hans absolutely idolized his oldest brother. He was handsome, smart, suave, and was the crown jewel of their family. With a single look in his eye or a single spoken word, Henrik could command respect out of anyone. The seven year-old wanted so badly for Henrik to like him. Right now, Henrik's cruel words were like a dagger straight to his heart. "I need to go to the bathroom," Hans' voice came out as a terrified whimper. That was only partially true. Hans also needed some space and privacy to lick his wounds and salvage what little dignity he still had left.

Henrik's lips twisted in a sadistic sneer. "Too bad. You aren't going anywhere until you promise to stop being stupid. In fact, I know just how to help you."

The Crown Prince slithered out the door and into the hallway. "Brian!" he shouted.

Brian silently cursed his predicament. He had been hoping to slip past the door without anyone noticing. But nothing ever escaped Henrik's detection.

It had been nearly five years since the Westergards had truly bullied Brian. Ever since Queen Ingrid had perished in the fire, Hans had become everyone's favorite victim. But Brian was still far from being respected as anything close to an equal.

The chubby boy bowed uneasily. "You summoned me, Sir?"

Henrik nodded enthusiastically. "I need you to do me a favor. Run down to the butcher's shop and fetch me five pounds of raw cattle brain. I have a new dinner recipe I'd like the chefs to try." Henrik tried to maintain an even composure, but he couldn't suppress the wicked glint from his eyes.

Brian sighed. He knew that Henrik was lying. But he didn't dare speak a word of protest. Minutes later, he was back with a large bowl covered in foil. Henrik grinned blissfully as he eyed the massive pile of foul-smelling brown and pink sludge. "Perfect." With a crafty smile, he slipped back into the library.

Henrik slammed the bowl raucously on the tabletop. "Eat it." His words were short and clipped.

Before Hans could react, a spoon was shoved into his hand. "Eat it," Henrik repeated.

Hans sniffed at the contents of the bowl. "What is this?" he inquired timidly. His voice came out in barely a terrified whimper.

The older Westergard smiled demonically. "It's a cow brain, and it's all yours."

The seven year-old trembled with terror. "But Daddy said that eating raw meat can make you really sick, and kill you."

"Too bad," Henrik sneered. "This is your punishment for being so stupid. Actually, you should be thanking me. Since you don't have a brain of your own, I bought one for you."

"No!" Hans sobbed. Tears dripped down his chin and formed a puddle on the tabletop. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be stupid! Please, don't make me eat it!"

"Eat it!" Henrik roared at the top of his lungs. Choking on his own tears and mucus, Hans complied. The rancid stench and hideous appearance of the cow brain made his stomach turn, but he didn't dare defy his brother. Slowly, Hans dipped the spoon into the hideous mess of slime, and dropped it into his mouth.

"Faster!" Henrik snapped. He thrust the spoon into Hans' mouth with such brutal force, he sliced the boy's lip. Hans emitted a shrill scream of agony and heartbreak. Before he could even attempt to swallow, another spoonful was forced down his throat. Followed by another.

As he swallowed, Hans whimpered at the revolting taste and texture of raw meat. He tried to swallow without tasting, until he felt a hand clamp on his throat. "Chew it!" Henrik snarled. A river of tears flowed down Hans' cheeks as he began moving his jaw. The nauseating stench assaulted his every taste bud and permeated every nook and cranny of his mouth.

After half the bowl was empty, Henrik was getting bored of his little game. He rose from his chair and strutted out of the room, giving Hans a hearty wave before slamming the door behind him. As soon as Henrik's footsteps died down, Hans seized a pitcher of water sitting on the coffee table. He was so desperate to get that horrendous taste out of his mouth. The little boy tilted back his head and slurped ravenously at the cool, fresh water.

Before long, he realized his dreadful mistake, as diarrhea took hold. His stomach began to churn furiously, threatening to burst. Hans tugged and jerked frantically at the doorknob, but it was locked. From the outside.

Hans screamed himself hoarse, kicking and pounding furiously on the locked door, begging someone to let him use the toilet. But no one heard his desperate pleas. Except for one person.

For the past half an hour, Brian had been crouched behind a large floor vase in the hallway, his stomach in knots as he listened to little Prince Hans being mercilessly tormented by his eldest brother. He had been an accomplice—albeit an unwilling one—to Henrik's schemes. Brian felt guilty and could not walk away in good conscience. But he had neither the courage nor the authority to intervene. So all he could do was stay and eavesdrop, in a pathetic attempt at showing solidarity.

Hans burst into tears and bounded frantically around the room, clutching at his bottom. "Please! It's an emergency!"

Brian could listen no longer. Hans' desperate cries tore his heart to shreds. The corpulent thirteen year-old emerged from his hiding place. He wasn't going to stand for this. For the first time in forever, he was going to stand up for something. Brian winked at Hans through a small window in the door, and began to undo the lock.

"Ahem!" The clearing of a throat sounded from behind him. The overweight young boy turned around. Henrik was standing there, with his arms folded and his eyebrows raised questioningly. "What do you think you're doing, Lard Butt?"

Brian's gaze flickered back to Hans' pleading, desperate eyes. Just one more turn of the key, and the door would be open. Just one more ounce of courage, and an innocent child would be spared from unspeakable humiliation. But Henrik's harsh, ruthless gaze melted away his resolve. _I'm sorry,_ he mouthed to Hans through the window. With a simple twist of his fingers, the lock was in place once again. Brian handed the key back to Henrik, and ran.

A heartbreaking scream ripped through the air, as Hans finally lost control of his bowels. The seven year-old could do nothing as clumps of watery excrement soaked through his underwear, dropped down his pant legs and onto the floor. His face was beet-red and contorted in agony. Tears of unfathomable grief poured down his crumpled cheeks and soaked through the adorable sailor outfit he was wearing, as his final shred of human dignity festered away.

Brian continued hold his ears and run. After all, running and hiding was all he'd ever been good at.

* * *

Pain and anguish was etched into every line of his handsome face, as Brian made one final heartbreaking confession. "There was a tiny part of me that subconsciously felt thankful, or at the very least, relieved. The death of their mother made Hans the target of everyone's animosity. It deflected all the negative attention away from me. It was so despicable of me to think that way, but I no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it."

The damage was done, and there was no going back. Now Elsa knew the truth. That Brian Helmholtz was a despicable man. A soulless coward who could never stand up for what was right. A selfish opportunist who profiteered from the misfortunes of others. A sick, twisted individual whose instinctive reaction to a tragedy was _what's in it for me_? Brian fell silent, afraid of how Elsa might react to this dreadful anagnorisis. Afraid to see the crestfallen look on her face.

But her reaction was most unexpected. Elsa squeezed his hand gently, and seemed to read his mind. "Brian, having self-preservation instincts does not make you selfish. It only makes you human. You did not wish for this accident to happen. All you wanted was to be treated with respect. If anyone should be ashamed of themselves, it's the Westergards. Their mother died to teach them love and compassion, but they learned nothing. They might as well be defecating on her grave."

"Poor little Hans… It's no wonder he turned out this way. How could his brothers do this to their own flesh and blood? How could his father not know what was happening?" Elsa's bright blue eyes shone with tears.

Brian chewed his nails nervously. He had been hesitant to tell Elsa his story, fearful of how she would react to his cowardly behavior. But the current situation was even worse. Elsa felt genuinely sorry for Hans.

The Queen of Arendelle was a brilliant woman by any measure. She could scrupulously outsmart any foreign dignitary and maneuver any negotiation into a favorable outcome for Arendelle. In even the most messy and convoluted situations, she always seemed to know just what the kingdom needed. But her soft heart was a terrible weakness.

If Elsa somehow convinced herself that she could talk sense into Hans or "win him over" with love, it could be her doom.

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 9!**


	9. Breaking the Vicious Cycle

**Now that Elsa (and everyone reading this story) is feeling sorry for Hans, let's see what happens!**

 **To my Guest reviewers, rest assured that trigger warnings WILL be given at the start of chapters are necessary.**

 **XXX: My goal for Hans in this story is to portray him as still being an insecure child deep down inside. Hans does want love and respect. He thinks he can get love and respect by becoming King of Arendelle. And since Henrik is helping him get there, he is rather naively clinging to Henrik and being his loyal sidekick.**

 **September 7, 2016 edit:** **profanity removed from Hans' conversation with Elsa.**

 **Chapter 9:**

Brian lowered his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Elsa."

The Snow Queen was utterly perplexed. "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

Dr. Helmholtz ran a hand through his sandy blonde locks. "I'm sorry about Hans. It's my fault he turned out this way. It's my fault he's here, ruining your life and trying to take over Arendelle. As awful as his brothers were, it was my backstabbing and cowardice that truly pushed him over the edge." The young physician dropped his hand and picked aimlessly at a loose threat in the carpet. "A long time ago, Hans considered me a friend. But I failed him."

For over twenty years, Brian's dreams had been haunted by the image of a child's heartbroken face. A child's pitiful voice crying for help. Because he had ignored that cry, an innocent child had become a homicidal maniac. Hans' final vestige of humanity had been destroyed not by the words of his tormentors, but by the silence of his friend.

Brian's heart ached as he took Elsa's hands gently into his own, and examined her battered body. The many welts and bruises that covered her beautiful, flawless skin. Her dislocated shoulder and immobilized arm. The broken ribs that had come less than an inch away from puncturing her lung. The left shoulder blade that had been shattered into half a dozen pieces. The ankle that had swollen to four times its regular size. It was entirely his fault. He was the one who had planted the seed of hatred in Hans' heart. Now he was reaping what he sowed.

Nine gentle chimes emanated from the castle's clock tower. From outside the window, a light breeze rippled through the trees. The dense foliage parted to unveil a full moon. The radiant orb shed its beams upon the pair, bathing the entire room in a soft silver glow. The moonlight had a ghostly vibe, accentuating the already tense and somber atmosphere.

Finally, Elsa broke the silence. "Brian, you can't blame yourself for the choices that Hans made. Don't forget, you were bullied too. But you never became a bully yourself. It's a really selfish way to dispense justice, to want everyone to suffer the same things that you did. It's not justice at all. It's petty and juvenile, and it doesn't make logical sense."

Her eyes glazed over with melancholy. Elsa rested her chin on both knees, and gazed out the window. "But it happens far too often. In fact, it's almost ubiquitous. Just look back on history. In every society and time period, the people or demographic most responsible for perpetuating human rights abuses are the former victims themselves."

Dr. Helmholtz nodded in agreement. "It's a phenomenon that scientists call the _bad equilibrium_. Everyone would be better off if a certain behavior or way of thinking was abolished. But any individuals who try to fight the system get screwed over. So the cycle continues. I mean, nobody likes bullies. They should all be shoved head-first into a wood chipper. Everyone would be happy if bullies did not exist. But if you're surrounded by enough mean and obnoxious people and you don't act the same way, then you've singled out yourself as a victim. So you feel that you have no choice, but to exhibit the same behavior that you hate. It takes active opposition to break the cycle."

 _Break the cycle._ Elsa suddenly smiled to herself. There was something she wanted to show Brian. Something that not even Kai, Gerda, or Kristoff had seen. Only herself and Anna had ever laid eyes on this hidden gem. But she felt that it was an apt time and place to divulge to a third set of eyes.

The blonde hopped to her feet, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "Wait right here. There's something I want to show you."

Brian couldn't help grinning as he watched. His eyes lingered in the doorway for several seconds after she had gone. Elsa could be such an adorable child at times. She would be turning twenty-four next month, and had all the poise and wisdom of someone twice her age. But she looked not a day older than sixteen. When Elsa smiled, her every feature would light up in the most girlish fashion. When she indulged in playful antics with her sister, the spectacle was tooth-rottingly sweet.

Elsa was more beautiful than she could ever know. But it was far beyond the decadent, voluptuous sort of beauty that drove lecherous men into a frenzy. Beyond the one-dimensional cuteness that made adults coo mindlessly at little children. She was so strong and regal. There was an offhanded authority in her demeanor that so effortlessly captivated the respect of all who knew her. But she was so tender and loving. Elsa must have been an angel fallen from the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel, into the world of mortal men.

Soon she was back with a folded sheet of parchment in hand. Brian carefully unfolded the document and recognized Elsa's dainty handwriting and Anna's flamboyant scrawl.

 _To our precious little Prince or Princess,_

 _Welcome to our family. We have waited for so long to meet you. You have embarked on a journey through a beautiful, mysterious thing called life. We will stand by your side every step of the way, until you are ready to stand on your own._

 _The world is a beautiful place, full of love, laughter, and beauty. But it can also be cruel. People can be mean and judgmental. But no matter what happens, you can always turn to home and family as a sanctuary away from the world. As a cherished son or daughter, you will be loved unconditionally, and you will never have to worry about being hurt or rejected._

 _May all the days you have be wonderful. Work hard, play hard, love others, and above all, love yourself. Be kind, truthful, and unselfish. Put your faith in God. Know that we stand behind you one hundred percent. You can always come home no matter what you've done or where you've been, and you will not be turned away. Our arms and our hearts will forever be open wide._

 _You will never be locked out. Or locked in. You will never stand on either side of a locked door. Above all, you will never be made to feel worthless. When others knock you down, we will pick you up. When others look down on you, we will be cheering you on. Believing in you. Trusting that you will make a wonderful asset to our family and kingdom._

 _Thank you for joining us. We are so happy to have you._

 _With all our love,_

 _Mommy and Auntie_

"Anna and I wrote it together," Elsa said softly. "It was a week after the Great Thaw. We wanted to make sure our children never go through what we did. I was reminded of this letter when we were having that conversation."

Brian stroked her hair gently, savoring its silky texture, running his fingers lightly over the contours of her face. "It's beautiful." Elsa smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. His touch was so warm and soothing. This man had been Arendelle's royal physician for six years, but it was only in the past month that she began to know him on a personal level. Yet she felt such a profound connection to him. Elsa knew how it felt to loathe every ounce of one's own being. She knew the overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame that arose, when failing to protect a loved one. She knew how it felt to ruin lives and obliterate friendships with a single misstep.

After all she had been through, she would never judge him based on his past. And she wanted Brian to know that.

At the mention of the Great Thaw and the royal sisters' lost childhood, the topic somehow shifted back to Hans. "You and Anna have been through so much. But you never lost your capacity to love, never became bitter. I wish something could have been done about Hans, before it was too late."

Elsa looked up. "Perhaps it isn't too late."

Dr. Helmholtz stared at her strangely. "Elsa, are you out of your mind? This man tried to kill you and steal the kingdom, _twice_!"

"All the more reason to try! Don't you see? Without Hans, Henrik has no footing in Arendelle. Hans doesn't like Henrik at all. In fact, it's pretty obvious that he's terrified of him. Hans is the weak link in the chain. If we can turn Hans around, Henrik is powerless."

The austere practicality was soon replaced by something softer. Elsa's bright sapphire eyes shone with compassion. "Besides, no grudge is worth a man's heart and soul."

* * *

Hans was lying on his bed in the guest room, dreaming blissfully about the life of a King he would soon enjoy, when a soft knocking interrupted the silence. He opened the door just a sliver. Two bright blue eyes stared back at him.

"What do you want, Frosty?" he smirked. "Haven't you had enough yet?" Elsa's gait was painfully awkward as she limped into the room. An enormous mass of bandages covered half her torso, and dozens of bruises mottled her face and forearms. Hans' green eyes filled with smugness and triumph as he sat admiring his handiwork. _I hope you learned your lesson. King Hans of Arendelle is not a man to be trifled with!_

Elsa ignored him. "Hans, why are you doing this?"

Hans leaned back nonchalantly on his elbows. "Well, why would I ever pass up an opportunity to—"

Elsa got straight to the point. "Henrik is making you do this, isn't he?"

Hans raised a condescending eyebrow. "Why does that matter? All you need to know is that I become King of Arendelle in three days, and there's nothing you can do about it." But a trace of unease flickered across his features. How did the witch know? How had she figured out that he was just a pathetic little sidekick?

Elsa kept her cool. "I know type of man your brother is. I'm aware that you were also acting under his orders the first time you tried to take Arendelle. Back then, Henrik wanted our riches in trade. But this time, he is interested in my powers. He wants to conquer Arendelle as a show of his own military prowess. Other kingdoms would submit to his will without any resistance, if they saw what he was capable of. He's convinced you to help him under the pretense of giving you a chance at revenge. Am I right?"

Hans sighed. "Well done, Frosty. You've figured me out. So, what do you plan on doing with that information? In case you haven't noticed, we still hold all the cards. Either you or Anna is legally bound to marry me, lest there be war."

There was a threatening edge to his voice. The memory of Hans' recent assault was still fresh in Elsa's mind, and her wounds even fresher. She could not afford to aggravate Hans to violence.

Elsa took a cautious step back. "I'm not going to do anything to you, Hans. But I don't understand why you would agree to this. Why would you follow Henrik, when he's constantly making you put yourself on the line for him? That is not what a loving, caring brother would do."

Hans popped open a bottle of ale that he had pilfered from the kitchens, and took a long drink. "Listen, witch. I know you don't like Henrik, and I can't blame you. No one ever said Henrik was a nice person. But the man is a genius. Nobody messes with Henrik without winding up dead or permanently disfigured. If you had just an ounce of ambition, you could be just like him."

Hans chuckled and set the bottle down. "Like you said, what choice do I have? I have no land, no assets, and not even my title as a Prince. Everyone knows that Hans tried to kill darling, precious Frosty. But no one knows that Henrik was the one behind it all. I'm ruined forever. So what do I have to lose? I might as well have some fun while I can..."

That was the crux of the issue. Hans felt that he had no choice. In his mind, Henrik was the paragon of success. He was everything Hans aspired to be. Hans lacked the confidence and the vision to see that he _could_ be independent—socially, financially, emotionally—from Henrik. If she was going to win him over, debating and moralizing would not suffice. She'd have to offer him a better alternative.

She was also overcome with a genuine longing to save this poor, lost soul who grew up so deprived of love and nurture. His soul was sick and his heart was broken. He had never been given a chance to step out of Henrik's shadow. Perhaps this would be his chance.

Elsa drew a deep breath. She chose her words carefully, trying to make a heartfelt entreaty without seeming to plead with Hans or show signs of weakness. To demonstrate empathy without coming across as preachy and patronizing. If Hans felt that she was infantilizing him or treating him as a social experiment, all would be lost.

"That's where you're wrong. There is another way."

This seemed to capture his attention. Hans eyed her curiously. "And what is that?"

"Hans, you can have a life without Henrik. We will help you find a job and a home here in Arendelle. You can make a decent wage and live comfortably. Just stop following Henrik and abandon his little scheme." It was true. Arendelle had a wildly successful rehabilitation program designed to help troubled people reintegrate into society. Most offenders were just ordinary people who had made bad choices in moments of anger, grief or desperation. Serious crime was very rare, and recidivism was even rarer. Hans needed to be convinced that he _could_ have a fulfilling life independent of his bastard brother.

Hans' hardened, apathetic expression seemed to soften. "That's a generous offer, Frosty. But I'm sorry, I cannot accept it. Henrik is offering me something even better. He's giving me a kingdom, a crown, and a chance at revenge. That's more than what anyone's ever done for me. I'd be a fool not to take it."

"What about your mother?"

Hans froze. "What about her?" he asked, eyeing her warily. His snarky attitude was receding, giving way to more tender feelings.

Elsa took a tentative step closer. "Hans, your mother gave you the gift of life. She loved you so much, she was willing to die so that you could live. Don't gamble away her sacrifice by allowing Henrik to take control of your life. Look around you, Hans. You are no longer in the Southern Isles. Henrik no longer has any power over you." She gave him the slightest smile. "Physically, you are out of his jurisdiction. Mentally, you can be too."

Hans' resolve was visibly cracking, but he maintained his stubborn, unyielding façade. There was no way he was giving up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity simply because of some emotional propaganda. Although he couldn't deny that he was quite touched—and frankly, perplexed—at how invested Elsa was in his well-being, after all he had done.

"Lard Butt ratted me out, didn't he? That sniveling coward." Hans ground his teeth together at the bitter memories of his childhood acquaintance. "Well, Brian Helmholtz has screwed me over for the last time."

Elsa felt her heart throb painfully. "Hans, Brian didn't mean to get you in trouble. He feels awful about it, and—"

Hans interrupted forcefully. "Brian is weak and pathetic. He thinks I need to stop working with Henrik, and go back to being a nobody. Well unlike Brian, I'm not content with being a nobody. Unlike Brian, I learn from my mistakes. I know how to pick my friends. It looks to me that Lard Butt has picked the losing side… _again_."

"What do you mean, _again_?" Elsa raised a bewildered eyebrow. Her mind flashed back to a most curious recollection. What happened to instigate Brian and Hans getting into that massive fight yesterday? They had only been fighting with their words, until Hans made that cryptic remark, _Maybe you should go home… if only you still had one._ Then their argument instantly escalated into a vicious brawl. What did those mysterious words mean?

And why was Brian suddenly so agitated when she brought up Henrik? What else had happened between Brian and the Westergards?

Hans seemed to have read her mind. "Ah, I see that Lard Butt hasn't told you everything." The red-haired prince smirked devilishly. "Ask him, Elsa. Ask him what happened thirteen years ago this very month."

There was a mad glint in his eye. "Ask Brian what happened the last time he tangled with Henrik. Then you'll see what a worthless coward he really is."


	10. Lard Butt Strikes Back

**Welcome to the latest installment! Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing.**

 ***Question* What do you think of Brian as a character? This is my first shot at writing an Elsa/OC pairing, and romance certainly isn't my forte. Do you think he is a good fit for our dear Frosty so far? Is there anything you dislike about his character or the way he is written?**

 **(I know I've asked some of you this before, so this is mostly for the Guest reviewers. But feel free to chime in again!)**

 **Reaper:** **You could certainly think of it as Stockholm Syndrome. Henrik was viciously cruel to Hans in the past. Yet Hans still idolizes him and wants his approval so badly.**

 **Guest:** **For the sake of variety and trying something different, I've decided to make Hans in this story a little more of a "sidekick" than he was in Playing Dirty.**

 **Now, onto the story!**

 **Chapter 10:**

Henrik threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You mean to tell me that our old friend Lard Butt is here in Arendelle? Brian Helmholtz? I almost forgot about the man!"

Hans confirmed, "Yup, it's him all right. You know that Doctor fellow? Well, that's him."

The King of the Southern Isles rubbed his hands together gleefully. "This just keeps getting better. How did I become such a lucky man? Destroy Arendelle, take over the world, and put that loser in his place one more time."

The younger Westergard babbled enthusiastically. "Lard Butt even has his eye on the witch! Oh boy, I can't wait to see the look on Brian's face when he sees me ripping his precious darling Frosty in half with my twelve-inch dick!"

Henrik waved his hand dismissively. "Anyways, enough talk about Lard Butt. He's not worth my time. The witch is the one we're truly after. So, you will be marrying her in three days. Is that settled?" Hans nodded.

"Excellent," Henrik said slowly. "Remember the plan. I know you're gonna get sidetracked by your fantasies of fucking the witch, but don't lose track of our real goals. You are here to destroy the witch psychologically. Then she'll turn into the soulless monster we all know she is deep down inside."

The eldest Westergard lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "The witch's greatest weakness is that she's terribly insecure. She's constantly afraid of doing the wrong thing. Afraid of becoming a monster. She spent thirteen years thinking she's a monster, and she has a pathological fear of regressing back to that state. Hans, it's up to you to convince the witch that she _is_ a monster. Isolate her from everyone she cares about. Turn people against her. Put her in a position where she has no choice but to hurt someone. Make her lose her sanity."

Hans cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "How am I supposed to turn anyone against the witch? In case you haven't noticed, these idiots worship the dirt she walks on."

Henrik laughed condescendingly. "Let's start with the obvious, shall we? Remember the terms of your agreement? The witch promised to marry you, and in return you promised not to do anything to Anna or that stupid ice harvester. Is that correct?" Hans nodded vigorously.

"Perfect." Henrik leaned back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying himself. "You probably know that a consummation is a legal requirement for marriage. I'm sure you've also deduced that the witch would never agree to do anything with you."

Hans smirked. "Oh, I have my ways of making her—"

"That's not the point!" Henrik interjected forcefully. "Here is the crux of the issue. If the witch refuses to consummate, she is violating the terms of the contract. _A perfectly legal and binding contract that she signed in front of her entire court!_ In return for being a lying, cheating, backstabbing slut, King Hans of Arendelle has the right to impose punishment. And what better way is there to punish the witch… than to toss Anna into the dungeons? For the _second time_ in their life, the witch will be responsible for her sister getting locked up. Anna will resent her so much, and the witch will go insane hating herself!"

Hans quickly caught on. "Frosty might be upset enough to set off another eternal winter. And this time, the people won't be so forgiving!"

Henrik was practically dancing with excitement. "That brings me to my next point: We must also turn the people of Arendelle against the witch." A dreamy expression overtook Henrik's features, as he closed his eyes and smile ear to ear.

"Picture this. A huge mob of angry citizens chasing after Frosty with torches and pitchforks. Thousands of voices demanding the witch's head on a platter. The witch will run and hide, until she is backed into a corner. Finally, the witch will have no choice but to strike back. The moment she raises a hand against her loyal subjects, her soul will be tainted forever. Once the witch uses her magic to kill someone for any reason, she will have gone off the deep end. She would _never_ recover from that! Frosty would completely succumb to self-loathing and hopelessness, and lose her will to do good. Henceforth begins her downward spiral to becoming a full-blown monster."

"That's your plan?" Hand interrupted incredulously. "You'd be hard-pressed to find ten people in the entire kingdom who dislike her. The children literally think Frosty is God."

The King of the Southern Isles smirked broadly. "Way ahead of you, little brother. Don't forget our wonderful, lovely Formula XIV."

Hans was slightly confused. "But you said Formula XIV was meant to be a last resort."

Henrik's eyes brimmed with smugness. "Over the past few days, I've taken some time to explore the secondary effects of Formula XIV. It turns out that it has another very special property. One spoonful of Formula XIV combined with a single drop of the witch's blood will allow you to impersonate her for twelve hours. Imagine that, Hans. For twelve hours, you will look and sound just like the witch."

"Now, think of all the anti-Frosty hatred you could incite within that amount of time."

* * *

Kristoff took a sip of ale and twirled the pool stick around his fingers, whistling a merry tune. The ice harvester swung the cue behind his back and delivered a nice, crisp shot. The balls jetted about the table, darting back and forth in a seemingly random configuration, before two of them dropped into the pockets. A slurred chorus of whistles and cheers filled the air.

After the next man had taken his shot, Kristoff pitched the stick to Brian, who caught it in one hand. "All right, Doc. Let's see you beat that," he teased playfully.

Brian tried to concentrate on the game, but found it impossible to focus. His body was in the pool room of the tavern, surrounded laughter and merrymaking. But his mind was elsewhere. Stuck in a torturous recollection that he had worked for thirteen years to banish.

As he reached forward to take aim, his sleeve hitched up to reveal a small tattoo. A white ram mounted on a cobalt-blue shield took residence on his inner forearm. The words _Bowhead Islands, Never Forget_ was scripted on the flesh below.

Indeed, how could he ever forget? This was the land of his birth. The Bowhead Islands were an autonomous territory owned by the Southern Isles, primarily as a fishing and whaling outpost. King Joseph had appointed Brian's father to be Governor of this tiny country of ten thousand. They were a proud, rugged people who believed in hard work and fair play. What they lacked in numbers, they made up for with an indomitable spirit. The Bowhead Islands may have been a part of a greater kingdom, a tiny country lacking the political muscle to achieve sovereignty. But there was not a place on earth that didn't take pride in its culture and history.

Unfortunately, Brian couldn't say the same for himself.

For most of his childhood, Brian had been an awkward, overweight young boy who had no friends. As a member of the noble class, his social naivete especially made him a target of bullying and ostracism. He always felt out of place. He was nerdy, bookish, and lacked all the suave and subterfuge needed to thrive amongst the elite. Worst of all, his country had strong political and economic ties to the Southern Isles. This meant that his family had to work closely with the Westergards.

His circumstances drastically improved following his fifteenth birthday. Brian had been admitted to Arendelle College, one of the top universities on the continent, where he would pursue his dreams of studying medicine. Around this time, he also underwent a massive growth spurt. The corpulent, ungainly physique of his childhood was soon replaced by sculpted shoulders and a handsome face.

Brian's confidence soared. For the first time in forever, he could extricate himself from the baggage of the past. He continued to flourish in his new environment, gaining the respect of his peers and racking up one accolade after another. At the tender age of nineteen, he graduated at the top of his class. With the highest test scores the university had seen in a century, and a portfolio full of glowing recommendations, Brian was invited to work under Arendelle's aging royal physician. In time, he would inherit the position. That was the happiest day of his life.

But first, he would take a brief trip home. After all, he had barely seen his family at all in the past four years.

Unbeknownst to Brian, his home visit just happened to coincide with a diplomatic envoy from the Southern Isles. The nineteen year-old seethed with rage as painful repressed memories began to resurface. He thought he would never have to see the Westergards again for as long as he lived. But now he would be eating at the same table with them! Brian knew that no matter how far he climbed, they would forever view him with utmost contempt. He may have been Dr. Helmholtz to the rest of the world, but to the Princes of the Southern Isles, he would always be Lard Butt.

Now that Brian knew how it felt to be treated with respect and courtesy, he wasn't going to put up with this for any longer. Gone were the days when the Westergards bullied him with complete impunity. The next person who tried to mess with him would pay dearly.

* * *

 _Thirteen years ago…_

Prince Justin of the Southern Isles strolled through the marketplace, flanked by bodyguards. The ninth Westergard was a most pompous and arrogant individual. Brian's memories of his childhood had dimmed over the years, but several recollections of Justin stood out vividly in mind. He was among the meanest of the bunch, second only to his eldest brother. But unlike Henrik's shrewd and cunning ways, there was nothing sophisticated about Justin's behavior. He was pure filth. The Prince spoke like a dockhand, behaved like a street thug, and possessed the intelligence of a Neanderthal.

As he passed by a restaurant owned by a Finnish-speaking Sami family, Justin reeled off a barrage of racial slurs and tossed a brick through the window. The men donned in the Southern Isles uniform guffawed stupidly at the Prince's antics. Justin turned to lock eyes with the horrified owner, pausing to give the elderly woman his haughtiest smirk.

 _How dare you?_ Brian seethed quietly as he watched from afar. _You were born into luxury, never did a day of honest work in your life… and you think it's funny to destroy someone else's livelihood?_

Justin sauntered through a park and pushed a little boy into a puddle of mud. Brian trembled with indignation as he continued to watch. _You son of a bitch!_ Justin was a guest in their land! How dare he carry this snooty attitude? Justin may have been a savage brute, but he wasn't completely stupid. He knew that this nation was of little political and economic importance to the Southern Isles. He knew he could get away with this behavior. All it took was a nice loud, "Do you know who I am?"

The coward couldn't even fight fairly! Justin needed a whole entourage of bodyguards behind him, before he could bully children and old ladies. Brian almost found himself hoping that Justin would try to start a fight with him. The last time they had met, he was obese child. Now he was a lean, muscular young man who stood six feet tall. _Come on Justin, come and have a go with me…_ Brian would have loved to knock some manners into that idiot. Wipe that repulsive smirk off his face.

Later that night, his wish was granted.

Brian had been on his way to bed, when he unintentionally stumbled upon an inebriated Justin sauntering through the halls with two of his guards. The Prince was vandalizing everything in sight. He chuckled sophomorically as he knocked over vases, tore up paintings, and fired off lewd remarks towards the female staff members.

As Brian's thirteen year-old sister Sofia passed by, Justin grabbed her by the bottom and pushed her against a wall. The drunken Prince leered menacingly at the young girl.

Brian had seen enough. The classless idiot had disrespected his country and behaved abusively towards his fellow citizens. Now he was acting like a wild animal in his own home! Brian stomped into the room, making a beeline for Justin. In a split second he had both hands wrapped around the Prince's throat.

"Hello, Lard Butt," Justin spoke in his condescending drawl. "What are you doing here?"

As the Southern Isles guards moved in closer, Brian released Justin from his grip. "Why am I here? Because I _live_ here, and you are a guest in my country! Now get your filthy hands off of my sister!" Brian discreetly gestured for Sofia to run. Taking the hint, the girl slipped out the door and vanished into the next room.

"If you can even call this pathetic place a country," Justin sneered. "More like a town full of stupid hicks who don't know anything. I've also never seen uglier women in my life. Don't worry about your slutty sister. I wouldn't fuck her with my brother's dick."

Brian furiously opened his mouth, but Justin silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Watch your tone, Lard Butt. Let me remind you that I am a Prince of a _real_ kingdom, and you are just a poser. Without us, you'd be _nothing_. If not for your father kissing up to my old man, you'd be shoveling manure and your mother would be whoring herself out on the street corners."

"The only reason you talk shit is because people can't kick your sissy ass when you're surrounded by bodyguards! You think you're so tough, when you need a whole army behind you before you can bully an old woman and a child!" Brian fired back. He was mere inches away from Justin's face at this point. "You wouldn't last a minute on your own!"

With his pride wounded and his cowardice exposed, a murderous rage flashed through Justin's eyes. "Restrain him," he hissed to his guards. The two men promptly seized Brian by the arms and pinned him against the wall. Justin proceeded to strike Brian with a massive flurry of kicks and punches; shattering his nose and blackening both eyes. A kick to the stomach cracked several ribs and made him vomit. After what felt like hours, Brian sank to his knees in a quivering heap, while Justin smugly patted his bloodstained shirt. "That'll teach Lard Butt to respect his superiors."

As Justin was temporarily distracted, Brian leapt to his feet with a burst of adrenaline-fueled anger. A haze of red flashed before his eyes. Plain and simple, Brian Helmholtz had hit his breaking point. He was done with being a victim. With his final ounce of strength, he whipped out a concealed dagger and plunged it into Justin's stomach. Warm, sticky blood cascaded over his hands and trickled onto the floor. Finally, his hazel-green eyes glazed over and he slumped to the floor.

Prince Justin of the Southern Isles was dead.

Brian's father had gone through great lengths to keep his deed hidden. After all, Justin had viciously assaulted him first, and Brian was merely lashing out in self-defense. Besides, the only good Westergard was a dead one. Soon Brian was back in Arendelle, comfortably settling into his routine as assistant to the royal physician. No one knew who he was or what he had done.

Or so he thought. Six months later, Brian would pay dearly for his actions.

The newly-crowned King Henrik did not take kindly to Lard Butt killing his brother. Soon the beautiful little island country was surrounded by a vast fleet of warships flying the flag of the Southern Isles. Blasts of gunfire reverberated violently through the tranquil air, as thousands of men, women and children perished in a mangled heap of blood and entrails. Soldiers stormed the villages, looting and pillaging whatever they could find. The blue skies turned black beneath the smoke of cannons, and the sapphire sea glowed crimson.

After one week of fighting, their entire civilian population was dead. All their riches were brought back to the Southern Isles. The Bowhead Islands were no more.

Brian's entire family had been personally murdered by Henrik. Those wicked green eyes and that malevolent smirk were the last thing his father, mother, and dear little sister had seen.

No one came to their aid during the attack. King Henrik of the Southern Isles was a masterful manipulator. No matter how outlandish his lies or how nefarious his intentions, he could trick anyone into believing anything. Henrik had managed to convince the world that Justin was an innocent victim. A sovereign Prince of a proud nation had been murdered by in cold blood, and his death must be avenged.

Brian had been spared of that terrible fate. But he was left to suffer something far greater in return.

* * *

It had been thirteen years since Brian single-handedly brought about the demise of his own country. No one knew that he had survived, and was hiding away in Arendelle. No one knew what a pathetic coward he had been. No one knew that he was enjoying his new life across the sea, leaving others to suffer for what he had done.

Everyone believed that young Master Brian had perished alongside everyone else on that hapless island. No one knew the truth. Except for himself, Hans, and possibly Henrik by now.

Henrik. The man of his nightmares.

Not a day went by where Brian didn't agonize over the decisions he had made, leading up to that fateful moment. He had been bullied all his life, and never fought back. The one time he tried to fight back, tried to rebel against his state of perpetual victimhood, he was ground into dust. Perhaps he was simply destined to be a loser. Perhaps it was simply his fate, to forever be bullied by those who were stronger, and to fight against this celestial pecking order would only make things worse.

Why did he pick that fight? Had he truly acted out of a desire to dispense justice and stand up for the weak? Or was he simply fulfilling an oath to himself? Maybe he hadn't done it for his sister. Maybe he had attacked Justin only because he wanted to prove a point. To show that he was a strong and confident person.

Brian tried to take his mind off of the past, as he picked up the pool stick and prepared to take a shot. But no matter where he looked, all he saw was Henrik's laughing face. The young doctor sighed and halfheartedly took a shot, missing horribly and nearly breaking the stick. A chorus of playful jeers rang throughout the tavern.

Kristoff seemed to have noticed that something was wrong. He pulled Brian aside and spoke in hushed tones. "Doc, what's the matter? You're totally off the mark today."

Dr. Helmholtz sighed. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately." Biggest understatement ever.

The ice harvester slapped him jovially on the back. "I know what you mean. I still can't believe—"

"I can't believe Elsa is marrying that asshole!" Brian hissed viciously. He wasn't quite ready to divulge the _real_ reason he suddenly became so agitated.

The large, rugged blond man quirked an eyebrow at his companion. "You love her, don't you?" There was a hint of teasing in his voice.

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Brian shrugged nonchalantly, trying his hardest to conceal just how much it was killing him on the inside. Seeing Hans with Elsa tore his heart to shreds. "She belongs to Hans now."

"That's where you're wrong. She doesn't belong to anyone," Kristoff corrected. "On paper, she may be married to Hans. But her heart will never be his, and all the formalities in the world don't change that."

"Yeah, your point?"

Kristoff took another swig of ale. "The point is, Elsa loves you too. She hasn't been forward about it, but it's the truth. Elsa is too deeply convinced that she's incapable of being loved, and that's what's holding her back. It's up to you to take the first step."

"Mate, that's a hopeless endeavor at this point. She has no choice but to marry Hans. It's too late to do anything now. You want me to rip out her heart and stomp all over it? Give her false hope? You want me to get her in more trouble with Hans?"

Kristoff posed another inquiry. "Brian, why do you think Elsa is doing this?"

Brian gave the obvious answer. "To save Arendelle, of course. One of them has to marry Hans in order to prevent this war."

"There's more than that. Why do you think Elsa is being so passive about this? Don't you see? Elsa has completely surrendered herself to this circus because she thinks this is all she deserves. She loves everyone—you, me, Anna, and everyone in the kingdom— _but she doesn't love herself_! Elsa believes that a loveless political marriage is all she can ever expect to have. Doc, it's up to you to change her mind! You need to convince Elsa that she deserves better. That she CAN be loved. Only then will she have any motivation to fight against Hans."

Kristoff grabbed the stick and took another shot, knocking the remaining balls into the pockets. "Thirteen years of being made to feel like a monster is not easy to get over."

 _Don't I know that already?_ Brian chuckled bitterly to himself.

 **Whew! That was a tough chapter to write. Stay tuned, and please let me know what you think!**


	11. Checkmate!

**Before we begin the next chapter, let me address some points brought up by my Guest reviewers:**

 **1) I do take comments into consideration. Things have been done differently because of feedback. For one, I wasn't planning on portraying Hans sympathetically at first. I wasn't going to have Elsa feel sorry for Hans. He wasn't even going to be given a chance at redemption. But after some suggestions made on Chapter 7, I decided to be kinder to our wayward Prince. (Also, see 2 and 4)  
**

 **But the overall direction of the plot will remain more or less the same. I did spend a few months planning out this story before starting, after all.**

 **2)** **Ash** **brings up a good point. Brian does sort of "owe" Hans. I decided I will have him repay his "debt" in this chapter. Otherwise we can't in good conscience, let Hans take the fall. Thank you for the suggestion!**

 **3)** **Confused:** **There are 13 Westergard brothers, remember? Henrik is the oldest and Hans is the youngest.**

 **4) To those of you who thought it was strange that Elsa doesn't seem to know about Brian's rather infamous past, thank you for bringing it up. I haven't thought much about that. Perhaps I will have it so that Brian changed his name and/or appearance after the incident. Or that Elsa (who was only 11 at the time) was more preoccupied with trying to control her powers. What do you think?**

 **5) To those of you who thought it was strange that no one bothered to stop Henrik's genocide, that will also be addressed in the upcoming chapters. I did kind of oversimplify the politics of the story. Thank you for bringing it to my attention!**

 **6)** **Answers:** **You are absolutely right about Hans and Pinocchio. Hans is the classic narrative of the lonely, insecure kid who is desperate for companionship & hangs out with bad friends. **

**I believe that takes care of everything. Thank you for your detailed critiques! Now, onto the next installment.**

 **Chapter 11:**

Hans flashed a toothy smile at the body-length mirror and stroked his hair ostentatiously. In a few short hours, he and Elsa would be announcing their marriage before the entire kingdom, and Hans wanted to look his best. As the auburn-haired man postured left and right, the medals pinned to his chest jingled. "How do I look?"

"Wonderful." Henrik stood a few feet back, watching as Hans admired his own reflection. "Just like the King you're about to become."

The thirteenth prince kissed his right bicep. "Damn right. Now, why don't we start preparing our victory parade?"

"Not so fast," Henrik interrupted. "Let us go over the plan one more time. After all, we can't afford to have any mishaps this late into the proceedings, can we? In three days you will be married to the witch, and—"

Hans eagerly cut in. "I tie the witch to the bed, rip off her panties, and suck on those fat juicy—"

"Enough!" Henrik barked in annoyance. "Now get serious!"

 _Geez! Have a sense of humor, will you?_ Hans muttered a string of curses under his breath.

Henrik drew his dagger with a flourish. "A good hunter exploits the enemy's weakness. A _great_ hunter creates a weakness where there wasn't one before. Hans, you are the hunter and the witch is your quarry. If you are to emerge victorious, you must fight a cerebral battle."

The King of the Southern Isles twirled the dagger about his fingers, and jabbed it straight at a chess set sitting on a table. He began speaking in the tone of a preachy, presumptuous schoolteacher.

"Politics is a live game of chess. You can learn much about a man's character by the way he approaches the game. Is your opponent far too meticulous and careful, and takes too long to ponder his moves? Chances are, he's a smart fellow who lacks the force of personality to advocate for himself. With a little bit of aggression, his talent can be stifled. Or perhaps he swings too far in the opposite direction? Is he aggressive, impulsive, and forever playing on instinct? Play solid defensive moves and refuse to let him set the pace of the game. Eventually, he will blunder out of impatience."

"Alternatively, is your opponent loathe to sacrifice pieces for future positional advantages? Then you know he's a shortsighted fellow who will be doomed by his quest for instant gratification. Hans, this was almost you. Think of all those times you nearly ruined our plans, because you couldn't wait a few days longer to start toying with the witch."

Henrik flicked the dagger neatly against the row of chessmen. "The most frightening opponent of all is a man like Brian Helmholtz. That stupid fat fuck has no plan, no skill, and no idea what he's doing. Don't waste your precious time and resources trying to decipher his idiocy or seek an explanation that isn't there. When you are up against Lard Butt and the likes of him, don't overthink the situation! Understand that there is no point trying to _figure him out_ or make sense of his motives. Just grind him into dust!"

"Now remind me again, Hans. What is the witch's greatest weakness?"

"She's insecure, emotional, and constantly afraid of making mistakes. Whenever anything goes wrong, the witch is always quick to blame herself," Hans reeled off. "If we want to break her spirit and beat her into submission, we must cut off her support network. Alienate her from everyone she cares about. After everyone turns against her, she will have no choice but to join us."

"In other words, we must embark on a massive propaganda campaign to destroy her inside and out!"

Henrik grinned smugly. "Right off the bat, we can start attacking her there. Remember, by refusing to consummate and produce an heir, the witch is neglecting her duties as a wife. She is invalidating the very same marriage that she agreed to. In return, you are also released from our end of the deal. You also get to break one of our promises. We'll have Anna and Kristoff thrown into the dungeons, where our guards will keep watch day and night."

The younger redhead eagerly caught on. "We convince Anna that it's Frosty's fault she's getting locked up, for the _second_ time in her life! If this holds out for long enough, Anna will start resenting her sister. Elsa already thinks that everything is her fault, and Anna's resentment will only deepen those feelings. Once we create a rift between the sisters, the rest will be all too easy."

Henrik continued, "That's well and good, but it's only a start. The most important thing is to turn the _whole kingdom_ against the witch. I cannot emphasize that enough. The people all love her now, but they can be persuaded. In spite of all she's done to make Arendelle flourish and prosper, the Great Freeze will _never_ be erased from the minds of those who saw it. People know what she's capable of. We need to convince all of Arendelle that the witch is still someone to be feared."

Hans improvised, "King Hans will order the gates to be closed," he rubbed his hands together gleefully. "The good people of Arendelle will start to wonder why their beloved Queen is shutting everyone out, after promising to never close the gates. They'll also wonder where Anna went. People will start thinking that the witch once again has something to hide. That she is a lying, cheating, untrustworthy snake unfit to rule a kingdom."

A burst of excitement surged through Hans' veins, as he spoke in a frenzied tone. "Then everybody will hate the witch!"

His elder brother nodded. "That is the ideal outcome. However, the people might need some further convincing, that their precious Snow Queen is a fraud. The witch is dearly beloved by her subjects. If we want to make the witch a monster in the public eye, we'll have to do more than simply close the gates.

Hans perked up. "I will impersonate the witch using a drop of her blood and one spoonful of Formula XIV. In my Frosty form, I will spend a day in town being a total bitch to everyone. Smash up some store windows, behead a couple children, and take a dump in the middle of the streets. Then everyone will _really_ hate the witch!"

"Not so fast," Henrik interjected. "The witch has accumulated enough support and popularity, that one isolated incident won't be enough to destroy her image. People will simply assume that she had a bad day, and was behaving uncharacteristically. Or that she was drunk. We want to make the witch look bad, but we can't deviate too far from what people know about her. Otherwise it won't be convincing."

Henrik's eyes sparkled maniacally. "I'm sure you've noticed that her powers tend to go a little awry when she's upset. The witch is an emotional basket case. Her control over her powers is still tenuous at best, and keeping her away from Anna will only make it worse. This is where you come in. Use your unique power as husband and King to make her life hell. It will be your job to provoke her to extreme distress. The people won't be so forgiving if they see her losing control in public. If she injures someone with her powers or sets off another eternal winter, they'll want the witch's head on a platter. The whole kingdom will want her dead. Then she'll have no choice but to pledge her allegiance to us, if she wants to live."

"I like the way you think!" Hans was practically dancing with excitement. "I can't wait to get started on Operation _Make Everybody Hate the Witch_!"

The King of the Southern Isles glanced at his pocketwatch. "Give it some time. Three months from now, if the people don't hate the witch to the point of overthrowing her, then it's time to step up our game. We will unleash Formula XIV for its original intended purpose. That's guaranteed to push things over the edge."

Hans eyed him curiously. "And what exactly does that entail?" After all this time, Henrik still refused to divulge any information pertaining to Formula XIV. Hans had purchased that mysterious concoction with his blood, and even had the receipt of their transaction branded into his arm. Yet he was privy to so little. He didn't dare pester Henrik for more information, but the curiosity was maddening.

Henrik abruptly changed the topic. "You see all that?" He gestured across the kingdom with a broad, sweeping motion of his arm. "Soon it will all be yours."

Then he turned his attention back to the chessboard. Henrik gripped the Black King tightly between his fingers, and knocked the White Queen off the board. "Checkmate, witch!"

* * *

Elsa sat hunched over on a sofa behind the door to the balcony, wearing one of her best dresses. She rubbed her aching forehead and groaned, feeling sick to the stomach. Her bright blue eyes filled with tears as they settled on her father's coronation portrait framed on the far wall. _I'm sorry Papa,_ she whispered wordlessly. _I'm sorry I'm so weak and pathetic. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good girl for you. I promised to take care of Arendelle, but now I'm marrying our kingdom's greatest enemy. How can one person make so many mistakes in so little time? Maybe I am a monster._ She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. _I deserve this, but what about Anna? What about our people? They deserve so much better._

"Aww, you look so cute when you cry, Frosty," Hans simpered. "You should do it more often." Before the week was over, a magnificent effigy of King Hans would be immortalized upon the walls of the portrait gallery. He couldn't wait to start establishing himself in his new dominion.

"Just shut up, will you?" Elsa shouted. "Haven't you done enough already?"

Hans pinched her gently on the cheek. "When you cry, your makeup gets all smeared and you look even sluttier than usual. If that were even possible. Just wait till our wedding night. After I'm done with you, your face won't be the only thing that's wet." The thirteenth prince chuckled at his joke.

Elsa made a wild motion to slap Hans across the face. "I told you to _shut the hell up_!" she screeched furiously, voice cracking.

Hans easily deflected the blow. He clicked his tongue condescendingly. "Language, Frosty. Anyways, as much as I love seeing you cry, this probably isn't a good time. After all, it is the happiest day of your life. Or should I say _our_ lives?"

Elsa felt her stomach clench. She detested him with every ounce of her being, but at the same time, she couldn't help feeling sorry for this delusional man-child who had sold his soul to the devil. Hans was so cocky about his supposed victory over her, yet he was completely oblivious to the irony of the situation. Couldn't he see that he was little more than a puppet or mannequin to Henrik? Couldn't he see that _he_ was the one who was truly being used?

"Hans, is this what you really want? Aren't you bothered by the way Henrik is using you? A loving brother would never—"

"That is no concern of yours!" Hans snapped curtly. Suddenly, his jocular demeanor vanished and he became extremely edgy and defensive. "All you need to know is that you are now my wife, and you answer to me. So calm your tits down and get ready to introduce Arendelle to its new King."

The clock struck noon. Hans grinned blissfully. "It's time to greet our loyal subjects, darling." Elsa closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer as they stepped onto the balcony together. The whole kingdom must have been present, buzzing with excitement.

"Citizens of Arendelle," Elsa began. Her voice was strong and stable. Only Hans could see that her hands were trembling as she spoke. "I have summoned you here today, as the bearer of good news."

Whispers arose from the crowd, as people began to recognize Hans. But Elsa had anticipated this reaction, and was prepared to assuage their skepticism. "I understand that many of you are surprised to see Prince Hans. But if the events of the past two years have proven anything, it is that we are a nation of progressive, open-minded people. I ask that you withhold judgment and allow me to explain why he is here."

The crowd calmed down. People were now craning their necks, listening intently.

"People make bad choices when they're angry, scared or stressed. In spite of his past transgressions, Prince Hans is a good man who simply exercised some bad judgment in a stressful and confusing time. Please recall that he showed tremendous leadership during the Great Freeze, when I had all but abdicated my role."

Elsa clenched her jaw as lie after lie spilled off her tongue. She breathed a silent prayer of forgiveness. _God will understand,_ she hoped silently. _And so will Papa. I'm doing this to save Arendelle. It's the only way to prevent war._

"Next month, I will celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday. The time has come to choose a consort and beget an heir. There is no better man than Prince Hans to help take care of Arendelle, and raise our children into wise and compassionate leaders. In three days, he will become my husband and our King."

The crowd cheered wildly. People screamed, whistled, and cheered, sending violent shockwaves through the castle walls. Jealousy stirred in Hans' heart. _The people absolutely adore her,_ he thought bitterly.

But soon his bitterness gave way to happier thoughts. Hans smirked inwardly. _Not for long, if Henrik and I have anything to do with it!_ _Just you wait, Frosty! Before you know it, these very same loyal subjects of yours will be burning you at stake! After all, you're nothing but a witch!  
_

* * *

Late in the night, fireworks erupted across the inky black sky and music electrified the air. The whole kingdom must have been awake celebrating the joyous occasion. But the happiest man in Arendelle was nowhere to be seen, as he toasted his victory alone.

Hans tugged the cloak tightly around his body, shivering in the December chill. But the ambient cold paled in comparison to the passion that burned within. To the unquenchable flame of lust and ambition that scorched his soul. He had done it! Arendelle was his! He had the witch wrapped around his finger, and soon she would be doing his bidding.

The thirteenth prince carried a burlap sack full of the finest food and drink he had pilfered from the kitchens, as he made his way to the waterside. Hans silently congratulated himself. _You've done well, Hans. Henrik must be so proud of you._ Hans swung his leg over the edge of a wooden rowboat, and glided over the water's glassy surface. He took a bite of sandwich, savoring the rich flavor of smoked salmon and kale. Then he popped open a bottle and sipped some red wine.

High overhead, a particularly large bundle of fireworks exploded noisily, filling the night sky with a dazzling kaleidoscope of red, orange, green and blue. Hans peered through the darkness. The entire coastline was dotted with ships full of lanterns, music and dancing. If he strained his hearing, he could make out the lively chatter of the revelers.

Hans rowed further out into the open waters, marveling at the sights and sounds. _It's all for me,_ he thought smugly _._ _Poor, foolish people of Arendelle. So easy to manipulate. If all it takes is a bit of lies and propaganda to make you love the witch, then that's all it'll take to make you hate her too._

The hours crept by. Before long, Hans had downed three sandwiches and finished an entire bottle of wine. He was starting to get drowsy and disoriented. Soon he could keep his eyes open no longer. Full of good food and well-entertained, Hans dozed off with a smile on his face.

The waves lapped gently against the sides of the boat. Hans began to snore. A big goofy grin was plastered across his face, as he dreamed of ravishing a very special blonde to his heart's content. "Damn Frosty, you've got the hottest tits ever…" he mumbled sleepily.

The wind began to pick up, rocking the boat and interrupting his luscious fantasies. "Wait Frosty, come back… I'm not done fucking you yet." As the tantalizing images began to fade from his mind, vanishing into a dark oblivion, Hans swung his hands wildly through the air, trying to grab at them. "No, Frosty… get your ass back over here…"

Unfortunately, that was all it took to tip over the boat and send Hans plunging into the water.

It was the first day of December, and the fjord temperature was beginning to drop below zero. The cold was like a blade of ice against his skin, tearing at every inch of flesh and paralyzing his muscles. Hans' eyes shot open, as he was instantly jarred awake. But after a brief struggle, his body went limp. The thirteenth prince slipped beneath the waves and began to rapidly succumb to hypothermia.

 _***A few minutes earlier…***_

Anna and Elsa were enjoying a quiet evening by the shores late at night. The girls were seated on the edge of the pier, their feet dangling above the water. The stars shone brightly and the moon was radiant on the surface of the fjord. Bittersweet emotions flooded their hearts as they watched the revelers celebrate, heard the music and saw the fireworks. If only the people knew the truth. If only they knew what a sham this marriage truly was.

Elsa turned to her sister. There were so many things she wanted to say. There was such a massive plethora of emotions racing through her mind, but she had no words for them. So all she could utter was a short, concise statement of finality. "Well, I guess this is it."

The implications of that simple sentence were truly profound. With those words, Elsa had fully surrendered herself to a loveless future. She had sold herself like a piece of chattel to that despicable man. A marriage of necessity and contract of servitude had been signed, sealing her fate for all eternity. The deed was done, and there was no going back.

Anna sighed. "This is so unfair. How can they do this to you? This is such a stupid law. How could Hans be entitled to anything, after all he's done?"

Indeed, the law made no sense. Indeed, it was utterly facetious that one of the sisters was bound to marry Hans. This aspect of Family Law was begotten by centuries of antiquated thinking and intellectual laziness. It was set in place by men who were so rooted in tradition and so dogmatically opposed to divorce and annulment, they'd rather have a marriage based on lies than no marriage at all. It defied all logic and human decency that the engagement could not be annulled, even after Hans had been thoroughly exposed as a treacherous snake.

Anna laid her head on the blonde's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elsa. This is my fault. If I hadn't been so selfish and thrown a fit on your coronation, none of this would have happened. It was me who signed my life away to Hans, and now you're paying for what I did."

Elsa patted her sister's hand comfortingly. "Anna, you have nothing to be sorry about. This isn't your fault, it's mine. It's because of me that Mama and Papa had to lock us up. It's my fault you had to grow up like that. I pushed you into his arms by never being there for you all those years."

"Don't you see?" Anna implored. "That is exactly what Henrik wants you to think! He's trying to guilt you into marrying Hans. If you buy into that nonsense, then you're playing right into his hands!"

"There, there, it's all right. This has to be done, and I'm at peace with it. Now we are together again, and we have Kristoff. That's all I need. You are my real family, not Hans."

Anna opened her mouth to respond, when the silence was shattered by a loud splashing noise, and a feeble cry of distress.

Elsa narrowed her eyes and peered intently through the dark. "What was that?" Her sapphire orbs scanned over the landscape.

"Look!" Anna pointed. In the dark, they can just barely see the outline of a man thrashing about in the frigid water, struggling to stay afloat.

Without a second thought, Elsa immediately jumped into the icy fjord and waded through the shoulder-deep water. The cold didn't affect her, but her back and shoulders were still terribly sore in the wake of Hans' assault. Nevertheless, she grit her teeth and plodded onwards. This poor man could freeze to death within seconds if nothing was done. In no time at all, she was by his side. Elsa waved her hand to create an icy life-raft beneath him, and began towing it ashore.

As Elsa hauled the raft onto dry land, the younger girl scrambled over to help. But as the clouds parted overhead, the full moon illuminated a pallid face and rust-colored sideburns. Both sisters gasped in astonishment. "Hans?"

* * *

"Maybe you should have let him drown," Anna joked.

The blonde smiled ruefully. "No, Anna. You don't really mean that. Hans may have done some terrible things, but he's still a human being." But she could hardly blame her sister for feeling that way. After all, Hans had manipulated her and broken her heart during the most vulnerable moment of her life. Besides, Anna was not privy to the tragic childhood he had endured.

Hans lay motionless, his body ice-cold and his clothes frozen stiff. Only his shallow breathing and faint heartbeat indicated that the thirteenth prince was still alive.

"Love will thaw," Elsa whispered softly. She certainly did not love Hans. But as she stared down at his lifeless form, she felt sympathy inundate her heart. Elsa felt sorry for this poor wretched man who was so lost, so blind, so desperate. So hopelessly deluded by empty promises, and so oblivious to how he was being manipulated. She held both hands out, and willed the cold to recede from his body. Bit by bit, Hans' breathing became stronger, and color and warmth returned to his ashen cheeks. Even the frostbite on his skin seemed to fade away.

Finally, Hans grew strong enough to sit up straight. He whirled around in utter confusion, his eyes darting left and right. "Where am I? What's going on?"

Elsa held up a hand to still his ramblings. "You fell into the fjord, but you're safe now. Try to get some rest. We'll take you to the infirmary."

As Hans laid back down, Anna threw her cloak over his body. Elsa fashioned a set of wheels beneath the raft, and the sisters began wheeling him back towards the castle.

"Doctor Helmholtz!" Elsa called out as they burst through the front door. "We need your help!"

Hans' eyes shot open with a murderous glare. "Oh no you don't! Absolutely not. There is no way I'm letting that bastard take care of me."

 **What do you think? Will Brian and Hans be able to bury the hatchet?**


	12. Picking the Winning Team

**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I never envisioned getting so much support. You guys are awesome :).**

 **Many people seem to be feeling sorry for Hans. I do too. He was portrayed in a very tragic light But sadly, he will not find redemption in this story, like he did in Playing Dirty. Hans has actively chosen against turning around when he had every chance to do it, so he will be without excuse. Eventually he'll have no one to blame but himself.**

 **Elsa could abdicate, but that means Queen Anna & King Kristoff :)**

 **I'm not a legal expert, but I would imagine that divorce wasn't nearly as socially tolerated 200 years ago as it is today. The "Family Law" was based on that assumption.**

 **Warning: Profanity, angst, and sexual humor. **

**Chapter 12:**

Doctor Helmholtz approached Hans with a towel and a bowl of warm water. The thirteenth Prince folded his arms and scowled. "I'm warning you, Lard Butt. Put one finger on me, and I'll rip your entire hand off."

Hans raised his voice as the other man took another step closer. "I mean it. I'm sick and tired of you. You always ruin everything."

Brian reached for a bottle of ointment. "Prince Hans, just let me—"

"It's _King Hans_!" The auburn-haired man swatted violently at a tray of medical tools, sending the strange array of metal instruments clattering to the floor. In spite of his weakened state, his anger was as robust as ever. "One false move, and I'll fuck you harder than Henrik fucked your mother thirteen years ago!"

The physician ducked as Hans hurled a steel paperweight at his head. "Hans, I know we've had our differences, but this is not the time for that. Right now you really need medical attention. So please simmer down." Although Elsa had managed to alleviate much of Hans' frostbite using her magic, large patches of purple and indigo still marred his skin. These next few minutes were critical. If Hans continued to refuse treatment, large amounts of tissue would atrophy and he could lose entire limbs.

"I don't _need_ anything," Hans snarled. His voice was thick with contempt. "Who do you think you are, anyways? Always telling me what I need, when you have no idea what I've been through? First I need to get away from Henrik, and then I need a new life in Arendelle. Now I need you to take care of me? Let me tell you something. I don't _need_ Frosty and Lard Butt running my life!"

"Hans, stop it," Anna ordered firmly. "You aren't being fair. You needed help ten minutes ago, and if you hadn't received any, you'd be dead by now. The least you can do is get rid of that attitude!"

That seemed to do the trick. The belligerence receded from Hans' eyes, and for a moment he seemed almost genuinely contrite. He gave Dr. Helmholtz a slight nod, indicating permission. The physician immediately got to work.

The reports weren't exaggerated. This man, his estranged childhood friend, surely was the finest doctor in the Western hemisphere. He could heal any wound, banish any sickness, restore sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf. Brian moved so quickly, Hans' eyes could barely keep up. Yet his fingers were so nimble and not once did he vacillate. Every single movement, no matter how miniscule, had a purpose. Hans swore that Brian could read his mind and feel exactly what he was feeling. Without even pausing to look or think, he always knew just where to place his hands or tools, down to a hair's breadth of precision. Restoring strength to Hans' debilitated muscles and sending fresh blood pulsing through his depleted arteries. It was said that Doctor Helmholtz could do anything short of raising the dead. Hans believed it one hundred percent.

In no time at all, every last wound was properly treated and completely pain-free. Hans could only stare in amazement as he flexed his muscles, and felt not one trace of soreness or stiffness.

Finally, he spoke. There was still a hint of reluctance in his voice, but the aggression was completely gone. "Thank you for saving my life. But I would appreciate it if you'd stop trying to save my soul."

Elsa turned to meet his eyes. "Hans, I never meant to make you feel pestered or disrespected, and I'm sorry if I did. You're a grown man with a mind of your own. But I really think you should reconsider what Henrik is proposing."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot accept what you're saying." Hans sighed, "It's very kind of you to help me find a job and a home, after I lost everything. But how can I settle for that, when I could have something even better?"

"Something better?" Brian yelped incredulously. "This is Henrik we are talking about! Henrik is the type of man who would pretend to be your ally, milk you for all you're worth, and then leave you with nothing once he's gotten what he wants! Henrik never had your best interests at heart. Why would he now?"

"Look who's talking!" Hans was becoming agitated again. "Brian, you may have helped save me tonight, but you've also screwed me over more times than I can count. And you've screwed yourself over plenty of times too. You have proven again and again that you are a loser, and anyone who sides with you is also destined to be a loser."

Hans rose to his feet and stalked out of the hospital wing. "Teaming up with Henrik is the best decision I've ever made. Unlike you, I am not about to wind up on the wrong side of history… again."

* * *

"… And that is why Hans was so upset." Elsa finished filling in her sister on Hans and Brian's shared childhood, and the terrible experiences that led to their estrangement.

Anna scratched her head thoughtfully. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"What is?"

Anna clarified her remark. "Hans. It's surprising how he still hates Brian for what happened all those years ago, but he doesn't seem to hate Henrik at all. It doesn't make sense. Shouldn't you be more upset with the person who actually hurt you, than with the person who couldn't stop you from getting hurt? Besides, Brian was just a child at the time too. A child who feared for his own safety, no less. You'd be stupid not to fear Henrik."

Elsa paused for a moment. "I've wondered about that too," she admitted. "At first I thought Hans was just a coward. But maybe there's a deeper psychological issue."

The redhead raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Hans has been conditioned all his life to think that Henrik is the paragon of success. Henrik can't be questioned. Henrik is always right. Maybe Hans has simply accepted Henrik to be an immutable reality in his life, and the idea of disagreeing with his brother is completely foreign to him. If there's to be any chance of Hans turning around, his entire worldview must be altered. He'll have to uproot these beliefs that he's had his entire life, and that won't be easy."

Anna eyed her sister strangely. "I don't disagree with any of that. But there's one thing I don't understand. Why are you so invested in Hans? Why are you so determined to save him?"

There was a pregnant pause, as the blonde stared down at her feet uneasily. Finally, she spoke in a soft, somber tone. "Because one of us could have been him."

When Anna made no motion to speak, Elsa continued, "I was reading Oliver Twist late last night. Hans is the classic narrative of the lonely child who is so desperate for belonging, he's willing to associate with anyone. People can sense that desperation, and they prey on it. He gets taken in by bad friends, gets in all sorts of trouble—"

The redhead finished, "And when he really needs help, he finds that none of his so-called friends ever truly cared about him."

"Right. We also grew up in isolation. Someone could have taken advantage of our loneliness and desire for companionship, and manipulated us like that too. If there was someone like Henrik in our lives, we could have turned out just like that. I wish Hans could see that he doesn't have to live like this anymore."

Anna patted the older girl comfortingly on the back. "You've done all you can, Elsa. You can lead him to the truth, but you can't make him accept it. Sooner or later, Henrik's true colors will show, and hopefully Hans will be convinced then."

The blonde smiled. "I hope it's sooner."

* * *

 _Three days later…_

Bells tolled loudly throughout the land. Organs played and candles were lit in every steeple. Everyone was buzzing with excitement, and nearly the entire kingdom had crowded around the castle. The people couldn't wait to see their beloved Snow Queen marrying the love of her life.

One person was utterly miserable on that day, and that someone was the bride herself. Elsa paced nervously behind the chapel doors. Any moment now, the doors would open and she would be walking down the aisle and into the arms of that disgusting man.

Elsa glanced through a slit in the door, and caught sight of Hans standing tall and proud by the altar. The thirteenth Prince was garbed in a navy-blue suit, with his hair neatly slicked back. A number of medals were pinned to his chest, and a burgundy sash hung over his right shoulder. But it was something else that really caught her attention. Sheathed in his belt was a ceremonial sword that had once belonged to her father. A majestic sword encrusted with precious stones, belonging only to the King of Arendelle.

 _You filthy rat!_ Elsa seethed wordlessly. _Get your hands off of Papa's sword! You are not worthy to bear it!_

Inside the chapel, the organs and piano came to a brief hiatus. The priest took his place at the altar and spoke loudly. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses, to celebrate the joining of Hans Viktor Westergard and Elsa Marie Frostberg in holy matrimony…"

 _Oh, our wedding night will be hole-y, all right._ Hans thought smugly.

"… signifying unto us the blessed union that is between Christ and His Bride…"

Hans inwardly rolled his eyes. _Who cares about all this lovey-dovey bullcrap? Just get on with the party! I've got a kingdom to conquer and a witch to obliterate._

"… If any man should object, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

 _I object!_ Elsa wanted to scream from outside the room. _I object! I do not wish to hand my life or this kingdom into the hands of that sociopath!_

The music started again and the doors swung open slowly. Kai smiled comfortingly at the nervous young woman whom he had raised since infancy. "It's time, snowflake." He gently locked arms with her, and the duo walked slowly down the aisle, towards a smug and grinning Hans. People gaped wordlessly at the beautiful bride, whose radiance shone so brightly in the dimly-lit chapel.

The priest adjusted his spectacles as Elsa and Kai reached the altar. "Who gives this woman to be married?"

"I do," Kai's voice was loud and boomed with authority. Out the corner of his eye, he shot Hans a pointed stare. _Take good care of her._ Slowly, he released Elsa's hand and let Hans take her into his clutches. When Hans spun her around to face him, the blonde dropped her gaze, focusing on his collar rather than his eyes.

So consumed she was in misery and turmoil, Elsa was barely listening as more formalities were spoken. Soon the priest was reading one of Shakespeare's sonnets.

Hans smirked and whispered so that only Elsa could hear. "Hey Frosty, wanna know what my favorite poem is? It is Hans' _aspiration_ to stick his _elongation_ into Frosty's _perforation_ and reach _ejaculation_ , so this act of _penetration_ will increase the _population_ of the younger _generation_. Do you get my _explanation_ , or would you like a _demonstration_?"

"You're disgusting!" Elsa hissed back. She wanted to vomit at the sheer filth that permeated his words.

Hans only grew cockier. "You want to see how disgusting I can be?" He gave her his most repulsive smirk, as his hand slithered under the hem of her dress. His fingers danced higher and higher, until they were mercifully interrupted by the priest.

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you Man and Wife. What God has joined together, let no man tear asunder. You may now kiss the bride."

Hans almost lunged forward and slammed his lips onto hers with bruising force, slobbering all over her face and cutting off her airways. After what felt like hours, he finally pulled back.

The priest cleared his throat. "I present to you, for the first time, King Hans and Queen Elsa of Arendelle!" The audience cheered wildly. High overhead, bells rang loudly and a chorus of ecstatic screams arose from the people gathered in the courtyard.

Hans turned around to lock eyes with Henrik, and the older Westergard nodded approvingly at him. _Well done,_ he mouthed _. We've got her now._

Hans could hardly contain his excitement as the guests filed out of the chapel and made their way towards the Great Hall, where the reception was held. _The real banquet is tonight, Frost. And the main entree will be twelve inches of sausage._

 **Well, looks like Hans didn't change one bit.**


	13. Point of No Return

**Warning: Hans is VERY despicable in this chapter. I know he's been that way the entire story, but he takes it to a new level here.**

The Great Hall was filled with lively chatter and the mouthwatering aroma of gourmet food. Groups of people congregated around the desserts table, sipping on wine and exchanging some small-talk. Others milled about the dance floor, waltzing to some slow soothing classical tunes.

Elsa twirled a fork between her fingers and jabbed unenthusiastically at her food. She had hardly taken a single bite. Even her thick slice of chocolate cake was completely untouched, aside from a couple smears of frosting. She leaned over onto one elbow with a sigh and rubbed her aching forehead.

"What's the matter, Frosty? Why aren't you eating anything?" Hans simpered.

"Excuse me for losing my appetite after having to kiss you," Elsa grumbled back.

"Aw, what a pity," Hans jeered. He reached under the table and jabbed her in the thigh with his fork, easily puncturing the silky white fabric of her dress. Elsa had to clench her teeth and grip the edges of the table to bite back a scream.

"Ow! What is your problem?" she hissed furiously, holding a hand over her face so that no one could see or hear their encounter. Both eyes watered with pain, and ice was beginning to form beneath her feet. She furiously massaged the wounded area.

Hans leaned back blithely in his chair. "Just a preview. I'll be poking plenty of holes in you tonight."

"Ugh! I need some time alone." Elsa excused herself as politely as she could manage, and stalked to the other end of the table where Anna was seated. _What a fool I was to think he could change. Maybe I should've let that bastard freeze in the fjord._

The hours ticked by and it was nearly midnight. Slowly, the Great Hall emptied and the tables were cleared. Soon it would be time for the newlyweds to retire. The new King of Arendelle strutted through a gauntlet of cheering onlookers on his way to the bridal chambers, with an arm around his beautiful bride.

Hans beamed from ear to ear, waving and blowing kisses extravagantly as he was serenaded. The chorus of cheers and whistles continued to intensify. Elsa blushed a deep crimson and forced herself to smile. She had never felt so humiliated in her life. _Conceal, don't feel. Put on a show._ If she let it slip that she was repulsed by the man who was now her husband, the whole kingdom's fortunes would suffer.

Henrik lingered near the back of the crowd, smirking to himself. _Keep it up, little brother. Your big mouth and your two-inch dick won't get you anywhere. Soon the witch will be answering to me, and you'll go straight back to being the Nobody you've always been._

On his way up the stairs, Hans exchanged some quick words with a guard on patrol.

"Sir, tonight is a very special moment for my wife and me, as we take our love to the next level. The first night can be a very nerve-wracking—and potentially traumatic—experience for a new bride, and I will not let anyone or anything make her uncomfortable. Tonight we expect complete privacy. Clear out this entire floor of the castle."

Hans glared daggers at the man. "Trespassers and Peeping Toms will be severely punished by the King himself. I will not tolerate anyone upsetting my wife on her special night. Especially keep an eye out for Doctor Helmholtz. That man can never seem to mind his own business. Do I make myself clear?"

The guard bowed reverently. "Yes, Your Majesty.

"Good. Now make sure everyone knows." Hans rubbed his hands together gleefully as the guard scurried away to execute his order. Soon they were at the door of the royal bedchambers. The joyful shouts of the wedding guests slowly faded in the distance. _Party time, Frosty!_

* * *

"You're dead, witch." Hans' voice was deadly soft.

"Excuse me?"

Hans locked the door behind him and leered at her. "Look around you, Frosty. It's just you and me. No Lard Butt here to protect you this time. Now get in bed and spread those legs nice and wide."

"Hans, I saved your life!" Elsa managed to sputter.

"I'm aware of that," Hans retorted in a cold, impassive tone.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you such a mean and hateful person?" Elsa's mind reeled in shock and incredulity, and she felt her stomach drop. Hans was truly a lost cause. Whatever hopes she'd ever had for saving this man, surely they were futile now.

Hans put on his most apathetic face. "Whatever happens to you from this point onwards is your own fault. You should've let me freeze to death. You were a damn fool to expect anything in return. Understand one thing, Frosty. I don't owe you shit. I am not your friend. Never was, never will be."

"So you haven't changed at all," Elsa sighed. "What a surprise."

Hans' hazel eyes burned with lust and his face was taut with anger. "Remember what I told you that day? You'll be sorry, witch. You picked the losing side. Nobody stands up to the Westergards and lives to tell the tale. You could have come with us willingly, and we would have accomplished great things together. But no, you had to be an ornery bitch. Now you're gonna have your impudent little ass fucked into submission."

"The only person who's gonna regret anything is you, Hans." Elsa replied softly. "We tried to warn you. You were a fool to follow Henrik, and one day you will regret signing your life away."

Hans continued to stalk forward menacingly, his eyes boring holes through her skull. "I thought you were smarter than that, Frosty. With your powers and a little bit of Westergard ambition, our potential was limitless. You could have had anything, if only you knew what was good for you. But now we're going to take everything from you. When I'm through with you, you will curse the day you were born."

"Fine. You've made your choice. Don't come groveling for another chance when Henrik kicks you to the curb." Elsa snapped, her anger rising. "You're more of a coward than Brian ever was! You strut around acting invincible, when all you ever do is hide behind your powerful so-called friends. You might as well be made of wood, since you're already living like a puppet."

"You fucking bitch! Take that back!" Elsa's sassy remark earned her a backhand across the mouth. With lightning speed, Hans lashed out his hand and delivered a vicious blow. His knuckles collided harshly against her lower lip, splitting it wide open and knocking her incisors loose.

"That's easy for you to say!" Hans roared furiously, spraying Elsa with spit. He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her vigorously. A murderous rage flashed through his eyes. "How dare you tell me how to live my life? How dare you judge me? You have no idea what I've been through! You had a crown and kingdom handed to you on a silver platter, from the day you were born. I've had to work for everything I've ever had! You don't know the first thing about hardship! How dare you sit on your high horse, and insinuate that I'm wrong for trying to make something of myself? You're even worse than Lard Butt. _Fuck you_!" The volume and tenor of his voice rose dramatically with every syllable. Soon he was out of breath and his chest heaved from all his shouting.

Elsa stood her ground, massaging her bloody lip. "Whether or not I take back that comment doesn't make it any less true. You made a big mistake by following Henrik. Also, enough of that _nobody understands me_ attitude. The world doesn't revolve around you. Nobody is obligated to give you any special treatment."

A gust of rage and hatred pulsed through his veins, scorching his insides like acid corroding flesh. How dare the witch talk to him that way? She had no idea what he had suffered through, could not even begin to imagine the hellish childhood he had endured… and yet she felt entitled to criticize him for wanting to elevate himself? Elsa hadn't earned her station in life. She was simply lucky enough to be her father's firstborn.

On top of it all, she was gifted with a magic that allowed her to destroy the entire continent with a flick of her wrist. But what did she waste that prodigious talent on? Making silly toys and accessories! Entertaining a bunch of worthless spoiled children! The witch was also wickedly intelligent, and an undisputed genius at all the logistics of running a kingdom. But she had zero ambition outside of Arendelle.

So much wasted potential. So many gifts bestowed upon one who had no intentions of capitalizing upon them. Meanwhile, someone far more deserving was given nothing. Hans felt his stomach knot with anger and indignation. Surely there was no justice in the world. If the universe did not play fairly, then neither would he.

Tonight he was determined to prove a point. King Hans of Arendelle was not someone to be bullied or disrespected. Hans seized two fistfuls of downy blonde hair, and began dragging Elsa across the room in a burst of adrenaline-fueled rage.

"You're mine, witch. I have my rights as a husband. Don't you ever forget that," Hans hissed into her ear. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you'll piss blood every day for the rest of your life."

Elsa kicked him in the shins as hard as she could. "I will never submit to you, you filthy monster! If you try anything, I'll freeze you!" To illustrate her point, a thin coating of frost began creeping up the walls of the room.

"You want to see how much of a monster I can be?" Hans emitted a low, animalistic growl. Before Elsa could conjure single snowflake, he slammed her head against the corner of a dresser, gashing open her temple and unleashing a cascade of blood. As Elsa dropped to the floor writhing in agony, Hans descended upon her. His fingers roamed up and down her body, kneading every inch of soft supple flesh he could find. "Nice tits, Frosty. Is this monstrous enough for you?"

Elsa managed to free one of her arms, and delivered a solid slap across Hans' face. His nose began to bleed and a purple bruise took residence on one cheek. She prepared to poke him in the eye, but Hans was too quick. In a flash, he had her offending hand trapped in a vise-like grip.

Hans grinned wickedly as he bent her wrist all the way back and twisted her hand in a full circle, wrenching the carpal bones loose from their sockets and crushing the cartilage like eggshells. A sickening crunch erupted as the radius and ulna snapped completely in half. Sharp spasms of pain shot up the median nerve, and exploded in her brain in pulsating waves in agony. Elsa collapsed in a fit of sobs, her vision and hearing completely blackened out by the pain. She tried her hardest to strike him with a blast of ice, but found herself utterly incapacitated.

"Aw, did that hurt? Does poor Frosty need a hug?" Hans sneered. He rose to his feet and stomped forcefully on Elsa's already broken arm, eliciting a loud crack. He grinned blissfully at her agonized expression. He was feeling more powerful and invincible by the second. Hans wanted to bruise every inch of flesh, spill every drop of blood, rupture every artery and break every bone in her entire body. Perhaps only then would the witch know her place. Perhaps only then would she learn that nobody bullies Hans Westergard and gets away with it.

Elsa forced herself to turn around and face him. "Fuck you!" she spat defiantly. "I hope you rot in hell! You and Henrik!"

"No, fuck _you_ ," Hans corrected smugly. He dropped his trousers and lowered himself onto her. After pinning her in place, he wedged a knee between her thighs. "Now be a good girl, and we won't have to resort to violence."

Elsa was in so much pain, she could barely move a muscle. But as Hans tore open her nightgown and began stripping her undergarments, a sudden burst of adrenaline revived her strength. She had been backed into a corner with no escape, and her self-preservation instincts roared to life. A streak of ice exploded from the palm of her uninjured hand, impaling Hans' arm. Her assailant roared furiously and recoiled in pain. Wasting no time, Elsa seized a candlestick sitting on her nightstand and clocked him solidly in the head. Hans fell to the ground, temporarily dazed.

With a burst of strength, Elsa hobbled across the room and barricaded herself in the wardrobe. Seconds later, Hans was pounding on the door. "You can't hide in there forever!"

"Yes I can!" Elsa wheezed back.

"You need medical attention, Frosty. And unfortunately for you, Lard Butt is on the other end of the castle. You'll have to come out eventually. When you do, I'll shove my dick up your ass."

"If you touch me, I'll kill you!"

Hans shrugged nonchalantly. "Have it your way, then."

The thirteenth Prince slithered out the door and into the dark, empty hallway. Three men garbed in the uniform of the Southern Isles seemingly appeared out of nowhere to meet him.

Captain of the Guard Wesley snickered meanly. "Well done, Hans. We could hear her squealing like a pig the whole time. Damn, you got her good."

A smaller, more slender guard who appeared only to be eighteen years old mumbled incoherently, "I wanna Frosty too…"

Wesley slapped him around the head. "Shut up, Brandon. You're drunk."

"Enough, boys." Hans interjected harshly. "There is still work to be done. Everyone is asleep right now, and it is imperative that you are not seen or heard by anyone. North Wing, third floor, first room on the right. That's where Anna and Reindeer Boy live. Knock 'em out, tie 'em up and lock 'em up nice and tight. I want the job done in twenty minutes, or Henrik will be hearing about it."

The third soldier Josh rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Whatever you say Tough Guy. Henrik will beat your ass before any of ours."

As his men drew their swords and crept silently through the darkened corridors, vanishing into the shadows, Hans smirked triumphantly. "You've defied me for the last time, Frosty. Put one toe out of line, and Anna loses her head."

* * *

Kai was pacing wildly. The corpulent red-haired man wrung his hands and silently cursed himself, as he wore out his heels against the marble floor of the chapel. _What have I done?_ He simply couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that he had just done—or at the very least authorized—a terrible thing. Beneath all the pomp and circumstances, all the corny and pedantic professions of love, something was amiss about this marriage.

Why had Elsa been so sullen and withdrawn in the days leading up to her wedding? Reticence was one of her defining characteristics, but at times she seemed downright miserable. What happened to the sweet, cheerful—albeit shy—Elsa that everyone knew and loved? Just last week, the poor girl was hobbling around with a dislocated shoulder and dozens of bruises on her face and arms. Could Hans have anything to do with that? Kai didn't believe for a minute that Elsa had "fallen off her horse," as she had claimed.

As if to answer his question, the ostentatious clip-clopping of boots across the floor suddenly interrupted his musings. Kai looked up just in time to see Hans strutting past the chapel door, with a most repulsive grin plastered across his face. The thirteenth Prince was certainly in a good mood. He was practically skipping.

Suddenly, Kai turned white as a sheet. Had he just left Elsa alone with Hans for the past two hours? Had he really been that slow and dense? He gasped aloud and barreled out the door, tripping over pews and knocking over music stands as he made a frantic dash for the stairs. "Elsa, where are you?" If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

He tore through the hallways like a madman before finally arriving at his destination. The room was in shambles with overturned furniture, torn drapes, and patches of ice splattered intermittently across the walls and carpet. But what he saw lying in the wardrobe made his heart stop.

"Elsa!" The strangled cry barely escaped his throat as he flung himself down by her side. His precious little angel lay in a heap on the floor, her clothes in tatters. Her upper arms were covered with bruises, and her lip was swollen and bleeding. Blood was streaming down one side of her face, from a deep gash in her temple. One arm was clearly broken. The bones and joints were brutally wrenched out of place and twisted at such grotesque angles, she would likely be crippled forever. Kai felt his stomach churn with disgust and hatred. _I'm sorry, Adgar. I failed you. I promised to take care of her._

Elsa cracked open a weary eyelid and shifted slightly. "It hurts," she whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Kai scooped her gently into his embrace, his heart breaking with sympathy. "You're okay, snowflake. I've got you. We're going to go see Doctor Helmholtz, and he'll fix you up right away."

Elsa smiled at the use of her father's childhood nickname. "Brian," she said softly. The name was so comforting to her ear. Without another word, Elsa leaned her head against Kai's chest and fell into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the miracle worker who would heal her inside and out.

 **It looks like Hans is officially a lost cause, and Elsa will never try to save him again.**


	14. Frosty and Lard Butt

**I've decided to follow the suggestions of the Guest reviewer, and change the rating to M. Chapter 13 was, after all, pretty violent for a T-rating.**

 **To the other Guest reviewers, perhaps I did repeat myself a little too many times regarding Hans' potential redemption. The reason for that is in earlier chapters (7-10), there were several readers who still hoped he could be redeemed. People might have felt that I was "leading them on" or wasting plot time, by having Elsa try and save Hans for no apparent reason. I wanted to make it very clear WHY he wasn't going to be redeemed even after being given the opportunity, and what plot purpose that serves.**

 **Thank you again to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Stay tuned :)**

 **Chapter 14:**

"Hurry! No time to waste!" Kai huffed agitatedly as he laid Elsa's broken, bruised body gently down on the exam table. Her head immediately drooped off to one side. She looked so small and fragile, just like the infant he held in his arms over two decades ago. On the other side of the office, Dr. Helmholtz was rummaging through a cabinet for his instruments. The physician certainly hadn't expected to be summoned to an emergency operation at nearly three in the morning.

"Right away, sir." Elsa's head throbbed as she peeked at him through swollen, half-lidded eyes. A strange sensation of warmth washed over her entire body at the sound of his voice. Though her condition was dire, she felt safe and comforted in his presence. She knew she was in good hands.

Brian stood up straight with a tray full of strange contraptions and glass bottles of all shapes and sizes. As he hoisted the heavy bin onto the countertop, his muscles strained against his shirt. Elsa's eyes involuntarily wandered to his massive biceps and sculpted chest. Part of her wanted to be held safely in his strong embrace. There she knew she would be protected, cherished, and treated with tender loving care.

Kai chewed on his nails nervously as he watched Doctor Helmholtz bend over Elsa's broken, lifeless form. The physician slowly unscrewed a small brown bottle and had Elsa swallow a few drops. Soon she was completely unconscious.

The doctor felt his heart shatter as he examined the multitude of scratches and bruises that peppered her flawless porcelain skin. Thankfully, the injuries were superficial and there was no damage done to her vital organs. He knew that the cuts and contusions would eventually heal with time. But what of the scars that couldn't be seen? What about the scars on her beautiful, gentle soul that no medicine on earth could ever mend?

Brian cradled her head in one hand and stroked her cheek. Her beautiful face was deathly pale, and both lips were tinged blue. The soft, downy blonde hair was crusted with dried blood near the hairline. She must have lost nearly a pint of blood through that nasty gash, and all evidence pointed to a concussion.

However, it was her arm that truly worried him. Her hand hung limply at a most awkward angle. Small angular lumps near the wrist indicated that the carpus was completely crushed and dislocated. Her forearm bones had snapped cleanly in half, and the ligaments were torn and twisted out of place. The skin surrounding the elbow was discolored and swollen to a monstrous size. Brian estimated that she had been struck with a force equivalent to being run over by a carriage. The distal humerus had undergone comminuted fracture, shattering her elbow into no fewer than thirty pieces. Shards of bone had gouged deeply into the muscle tissue, inciting massive internal bleeding.

The prognosis wasn't good. People throughout history have died from far lesser wounds.

"Well?" Kai inquired nervously.

Doctor Helmholtz gritted his teeth. "Most of the injuries were surprisingly superficial, as bad as they look. Nothing that can't be fixed by a few simple procedures. But that arm really concerns me. The bones and soft tissue look as if they've been mangled by farming equipment. She is losing a lot of blood. If the infection isn't stopped before it spreads to her lungs—"

"There has to be something you can do!" Kai pleaded, tears welling in his eyes. "That bastard Hans fell into the frozen lake, and half of his skin was rotting off. But you had him good as new in ten minutes flat!"

Brian fell silent, chewing his lip nervously as he weighed his options.

"There is one very risky operation I can try. It will last forty-eight consecutive hours and is very dangerous. But it could be her only hope."

The doctor instantly got to work cutting, suturing and stitching. He popped open several dozen bottles of medication, many of which he himself had brewed, juggling them back and forth at lightning speed yet never losing track. Then he applied a very special painkiller of his own invention. That was his area of expertise. A few years ago, Doctor Helmholtz had won a Nobel Prize for his work in anesthesiology.

But none of that mattered right now. If he couldn't perform this operation successfully, all his pass accomplishments were for naught. Brian continued to work feverishly, sparks crackling on the blade of his scalpel. It was truly a race against time.

The hours passed and the sun rose high in the sky, but his strength did not wane. Seeing the incident rays of light falling on Elsa's beautiful face, shrouding her in a golden aura, only fueled his motivation. She winced in her sleep as his forceps brushed against a particularly sensitive spot. Brian set down his tools and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Elsa, you're the most gorgeous woman I've ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes on. If heaven and earth manifested as a woman, it would be you. But your greatest beauty lies within. You are the most intelligent, brave, selfless and loving person, unrivalled by anyone. Your powers are not a curse. They are beautiful and magnificent. When wielded by someone like you, the goodness is unlimited. You are not a witch. You're an angel. Never forget that."

He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. "That is why they call you the Snow Queen. You have a heart as pure as freshly fallen snow."

As if Elsa could hear him, her features melted into utmost tranquility and a dreamy smile crossed her face. Even her cheeks were tinged pink.

* * *

 _Later that morning..._

Anna groaned softly and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her body was a lump of lead, and her mind still foggy and hazy from a hectic night. Blurred images and choppy recollections from the wedding dotted her memories. Her surroundings were little more than a miasma of hazy colors and distant, disjointed sounds. Perhaps she was still dreaming? The Princess was only vaguely aware of a throbbing headache and a rather sizable knot on the back of her head. Only when something—or perhaps someone—poked her beneath the ribs, did she regain her bearings.

Standing a few paces away was an auburn-haired man with a thin rattan cane clutched in his fist, and a smirk stretched across his mouth. Anna immediately recognized Hans. She instinctively clenched her fists and marched forward, preparing to knock some manners into that snarky bastard.

But just as abruptly as she started, Anna stopped dead in her tracks. She rubbed her eyes and blinked heavily to make sense of a strange apparition. But there was no mistaking the dim light, the stony walls, or the faint scent of mildew in the air.

She was in the dungeons!

Anna flung herself at the bars. "What's going on? Why am I here?"

Hans sighed wistfully. "Look, I really didn't want to do this," he lied smoothly. "But Elsa made me do this. That sister of yours is a deranged lunatic. She tried to kill me last night. Henrik and I agreed that—"

"What have you done?" The Princess demanded. Her knuckles were white from clutching the cell bars, and her entire body trembled with indignation. "Where is my sister? And Kristoff?"

"Frosty has been locked up in her room until she can learn to act like a civilized human being. As for your precious Reindeer Boy—"

A loud crash in the next cell answered her question before Hans could utter another word.

"Hans Westergard, you son of a bitch!" Kristoff's voice reverberated loudly through the dungeon walls. The ice harvester furiously rattled the bars, nearly wrenching them loose from the concrete scaffold. "Just wait till Elsa hears about this!"

Hans snorted incredulously. "Funny you should mention Elsa, when it's her fault that you're here. You see this bruise under my eye? This cut on my arm? Elsa did that. She tried to kill me with her powers last night. I'm really sorry you had to be locked up, but we have no other bargaining chip against the witch. We mortal men are no match for her powers. This is the only way to stop her from trying to kill us again."

"What is your problem?" Kristoff demanded. "Seriously, what is wrong with you? What motivates you to be such a repugnant little piece of shit? Did you get dropped on the head? Did you not get hugged enough as a kid?"

Hans instantly froze. His cocky demeanor rapidly devolved into shock, then anger. "Say that one more time, and I'll slit your precious Anna's throat and drink her blood," he spat. Without another word, Hans drew back the hand holding the cane, and brought it down hard across Kristoff's shoulder. The ice harvester arched his back in pain and tried to dodge the blows. But unfortunately, his mobility was very limited in the cramped enclosure.

A rapid volley of blows continued to rain down. "Take that! And that!" In his fervor, Hans inadvertently began reaching in too far. Kristoff saw his chance. With herculean speed and agility, he tore the cane out of Hans' grasp and lunged forward, grabbing the auburn-haired man by the wrist. The thirteenth Prince recoiled in shock, but it was too late. Kristoff yanked Hans against the bars and began pounding his head relentlessly.

"You filthy peasant!" Hans spat viciously, pushing back with all his might. "How dare you assault the King of Arendelle?"

The two men continued tussling back and forth for several minutes. Soon they were interrupted by a thunderous rumble of footsteps and male voices shouting. Henrik had arrived on scene, followed by his three loyal guards.

Henrik wasted no time in grabbing Hans by the shirt collar and flinging him onto the ground. The younger Westergard scrambled to his feet, but Henrik swiftly boxed his ears.

"Hans, what is going on down here?" Henrik demanded. "What is all this ruckus?"

Hans pouted like a small child who had just been caught doing something wrong. He opened his mouth to begin defending himself, but Anna beat him to it. "Why have we been locked in the dungeons? We've done nothing wrong!"

Henrik raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "Didn't Hans tell you what happened last night?"

"Since when has Hans ever told the truth about anything?" Anna snapped back.

Henrik gave an exasperated sigh. "You see?" he declared, gesturing vigorously at Hans' black eye and lacerated arm. "Elsa was responsible for that! Your sister attacked my brother last night with absolutely zero provocation. That woman is a danger to everyone around her. After the reception, Hans was patiently explaining to her that they are now a married couple, and must act like it in public. But she refused to listen and went completely crazy. My brother barely escaped with his life. I hate to keep you hostage, but we have no other leverage. There is no other way to keep Elsa from going on another murderous rampage."

"Bullshit!" Kristoff roared. "Elsa would never do that!"

The eldest Westergard clicked his tongue condescendingly. "Let's not jump to hasty conclusions. What evidence do you have that Elsa would never do that? How well do you _really_ know her?"

"She's my sister!" Anna spat. "How much closer do I need to get?"

Henrik smiled inwardly. The foolish little redhead was playing right into his hands. If he could convince Elsa's own family to turn against her, then getting the rest of Arendelle to follow suit would be no problem at all. Before long, the witch would be his!

"That may be true, but don't forget that you were separated from her for thirteen years. You missed out on her entire childhood and adolescence—the years most formative to a person's psychological development. You really think the past two-and-a-half years even begins to compensate for all that lost time? You really think there isn't a side of her that you haven't seen?"

Hans quickly butted in. "Elsa was never there for you! Think of every birthday and Christmas that you spent without her! Going to sleep every single night for thirteen years, thinking that your best friend hated you! Elsa couldn't even be there for you when you lost your parents, and left you to handle it alone!"

Anna furiously opened her mouth to challenge that colossal misrepresentation of reality, but found herself at a loss for words. Henrik continued, "You also thought she would _never hurt you_ , but boy were you wrong! You went through all that trouble to go and find her, and how does she repay you? By telling you to Fuck Off the moment you arrived! By freezing your heart and creating a literal monster to throw you off a cliff! Elsa was so single-minded and self-absorbed, she didn't even notice that she had frozen your heart!"

"Stop it!" Anna shrieked furiously. "My sister and I have talked about all these issues before! We've made peace with it and moved on! I don't believe for a minute that she attacked Hans!"

Henrik feigned sympathy. "Have you forgotten that she came inches away from killing two men in her ice palace? Is it really so hard to believe that she can be prone to uncontrollable bouts of anger and violence? Listen, I know you want to believe the best about her. That's what any loving, supportive sister would do. But you cannot ignore evidence to the contrary. Elsa is very good at pretending that she's fine when she's not. The girl is a damn fraud. She was able to deceive her sister and the entire kingdom for thirteen years. Elsa is emotionally unstable at best, and schizophrenically deranged at worst. "

"We've told Elsa that you will be set free when she proves that she can stop acting like a wild animal," Hans added. "So it's really up to her how long you stay down here."

Hans and Henrik turned to exit the dungeons, leaving their guards to keep watch over the prisoners. Right as he was about to step over the threshold and back into the land of the living, Henrik had some final words for the fuming Princess.

"Elsa doesn't even care that you're here. Just wait a few days and you'll see. She won't even bother to come visit you, let alone apologize for causing you to get locked up."

 **More to come! Chapter 15 will be more action-packed.**


	15. Tearing Down the Facade

**I've been incredibly busy recently, but really wanted to get this chapter out. I will be on the road for much of next week, and unfortunately haven't had time to respond to Chapter 14 reviews. But I have read all of them, and greatly appreciate all the valuable feedback. Thank you for your time and attention. I cannot say that enough :)**

 **Without further ado, Part 2 of 100 in Operation "Make Everybody Hate the Witch!"**

 **Chapter 15:**

Henrik was lounging around the castle halls, when he was alerted by distant shouts of laughter. He peered out a window. A large group of children was happily congregated in the courtyard, flinging snowballs at what appeared to be Elsa's window. "Frosty! Come play with us!"

The King of the Southern Isles grinned wickedly. Already the next phase of his plan was coming to fruition. He knew exactly why the children were here. He also knew exactly how to manipulate the situation to his advantage. Chuckling to himself, Henrik threw on some servants' clothing and sauntered into the courtyard to meet them. He put on his most cordial smile. "Good morning, children. What can I do for you today?"

The children's faces were bright with enthusiasm, and there was a very distinct bounce and effervescence in their movements. A chubby girl with pigtails grinned from ear to ear. "We're gonna kick Frosty's butt in a snowball fight!"

"Yeah!" A younger child agreed eagerly. "And then Frosty will make a bunch of cool slides and carousels for us to ride!"

Henrik shook his head firmly but gently. "I'm sorry, but you can't do that. Queen Elsa does not wish to be bothered." The lie rolled off his tongue with mechanical ease and spontaneity.

"Why not?" a blonde-haired boy whined. His mouth hung open and his eyes shone with confusion. A clamor of protests arose from the group. How could this be? No matter how tired Elsa was after a day of paperwork and negotiations, not once did she turn down the multitudes of children who were constantly begging to play with her icy magic. She hated saying no, and she hated seeing disappointment on a child's face. It was no secret that the young monarch absolutely adored children.

Besides, who was Queen Elsa anyways? They were here to see Frosty. What was going on? The children continued to argue and protest.

"Frosty always plays with us!"

"Just tell Frosty that we're here!"

"Can we just see her?"

"How about tomorrow?"

The phony servant expertly feigned sympathy, as he knelt down to their level and spoke in the voice of an elderly sage imparting wisdom. "Children, it's high time you learned some proper etiquette. It was okay to be more fun and lighthearted when you were younger, but you are now old enough to know better. Queen Elsa has decided it's time to put an end to the silly games. It's time you learned etiquette and decorum."

"Please!" a four year-old girl sobbed with tears spilling down her cheeks. "Can't we just play with Frosty one more time? We didn't mean to be annoying!"

Henrik pretended to grimace. "I know you are disappointed, and I wish I could help you. But I'm not the one making the rules. Queen Elsa has made her wishes known, and we have to respect that. The gates will be closing tonight, and I must ask that you do not disturb again."

He paused to savor the effects of these words. Henrik knew that he had won. As the children bought that appalling lie one by one, as the shock and denial wore off and the dreadful anagnorisis settled in, twelve pairs of eyes filled with tears. Today, a part of their childhoods had been taken away forever. Each of them had lost a cherished remembrance that they could never get back.

Most frustrating of all was the lack of answers. Why were they being shut out? Why was Frosty locking them outside the gates of her castle, and more importantly, the gates of her heart? Were they doomed to suffer the same fate as Princess Anna—whose naïve faith and stubborn loyalty had nearly destroyed her? Was it simply an unassailable truth that anyone who tried to get close to the Snow Queen would, sooner or later, be pushed away?

Henrik spoke once more to deliver the killing blow. "One more thing. Queen Elsa has commanded that you never address her as Frosty again. It is rude and inappropriate, and it has gone on for long enough. She has asked that you start treating her with the proper respect that comes with her title. From now on, you will call her Your Majesty. No more of this Frosty nonsense."

As the children trudged out the castle gates with heavy hearts and crestfallen faces, Henrik smirked to himself. _These idiots bought that hook, line and sinker! Just wait till they all go home and cry to Mommy and Daddy about how sweet, darling Frosty broke their hearts and shattered their souls. They'll want her pretty head on a platter!_

* * *

 _One week later…_

Anna slurped ravenously at a jug of water, wiping her mouth on the back of one sleeve. The dungeons were really beginning to take a toll. She'd had nothing to eat but bread and water, with an occasional sour apple. Not a single ray of light or warmth ever found its way into the dark, stony underground enclosure. Her rosy complexion had become pallid, and her cheeks sunken. But it was her willpower that was truly being pushed to its limits. Where on earth was her sister? She had been in the dungeons for an entire week, and still Elsa was nowhere to be seen!

On the other side of the bars, the three Southern Isles soldiers stood watch. Captain of the Guard Wesley placed a steaming plate of food just barely out of Anna's reach. Roasted goose, mashed potatoes and glazed carrots. One of the chef's finest masterpieces. The redhead tried not to look hungry, tried to dissociate her mind from the dull pangs of her distended stomach. But she could not suppress a thunderous rumble of hunger.

Wesley obviously heard it too, as he turned to leer at her. "Like what you see?" he taunted. The large, bearded man swallowed a bite of food and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply at the heavenly sensation. Anna clenched her jaw and continued staring emotionlessly at the concrete wall. She refused to let him see just how much this was killing her.

"You really shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Kristoff spoke from the cell next door. "Your teeth are all yellow and your breath smells like reindeer shit."

"You'll be lucky to have any teeth left if you keep mouthing off like that, peasant!" Wesley scoffed. Then he turned his attention back to Anna. "You have Elsa to thank for this fine mess. If she hadn't acted up, you wouldn't be here in the first place."

The Princess shook her head defiantly. "I don't believe for a minute that my sister did that! If Elsa really wanted to attack Hans, he'd be dead in a matter of seconds. Hans probably just bruised his face and scratched his arm tripping over his own massive ego!"

Second-in-command Josh spoke up. "Oh yeah? Then why isn't Elsa down here defending herself? Why isn't Elsa using her _phenomenal powers_ to bust you out of here? Face it, Princess. Your dear sister doesn't give a shit that you're down here."

The third soldier Brandon chimed in, "Yeah, she's too busy fucking Lard Butt to care about you." All three men guffawed stupidly.

"There has to be another explanation!" Anna insisted, her face reddening with anger. "My sister would never abandon me!"

"Even you don't believe that," Wesley sneered. "Wake up and smell the roses. Your sister got you in trouble, and she has no intentions of getting you out. The same way she frozen Arendelle—and your heart—and did nothing but run away. Don't believe me? See for yourself. See how much longer you're stuck down here, before she finally decides to do something."

* * *

Elsa wrapped her arms around Brian's neck as she sobbed into his shoulder. The pain in her body was beginning to wear off under the powerful sedatives, but no drug on earth could heal the pain in her heart. The indignation was overwhelming. The rage and frustration tore at her insides with caustic ferocity. Elsa had always known that Hans was a despicable man, but only now was she beginning to grasp just how long, how wide, how deep and how vast his perfidy truly was. How could he turn on her like that, after she saved his life? Never again would she hope for his redemption.

"That's the last time I'll ever do anything for that man!" she spat viciously, choking on a fresh torrent of tears and mucus. "I hope he dies!"

The doctor only listened as she poured out her heart. She was far too beautiful and pure to have her angelic countenance distorted by that ugly grimace. The agony etched into her face told of a long and ugly ordeal, but in the context of compassionate tears and a loving embrace, the beauty shone brighter than any candle. When she spoke again, there was an undercurrent of hesitation and doubt in her voice.

"Was this somehow my fault?" Elsa wondered aloud. "Was I asking for it, by being so naïve and presumptuous to think I could help Hans when I had no idea what was going on in his mind?"

Brian reached out and gently smoothed her hair, twirling a stray lock around his finger and savoring its silken texture. His other arm was wrapped protectively around her waist. "Elsa, listen to me. None of this is your fault. You tried to help him not because you didn't know better, but because your heart is bigger than the world. You saw a lost soul and felt compassion, because that's simply who you are. But you can't help someone who refuses to be helped. What happened last week was not because of anything you did—or didn't do—but because of Hans. He made his choice to follow the devil, and one day justice will catch up to him."

Elsa gingerly wiggled her fingers and flexed her arm, feeling only a moderate degree of pain and stiffness. She smiled gratefully at him. Doctor Helmholtz was truly a miracle worker, and he was such a pleasure to talk to. Part of her wanted to stay there by his side all day. Though she would never admit it, in the back of her mind she sometimes fantasized about sitting around the fireplace with him on a cold winter night. Just the two of them huddled around the fireplace, nibbling on chocolate. Basking in the warmth of the open flame and the warmth of togetherness.

But there was someone else she was also dying to see. Elsa bade Brian farewell and excused herself from the infirmary, in search of that someone. She had hardly made it to the end of the corridor, before Hans appeared out of nowhere and blocked her path. Elsa had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid crashing straight into him.

The red-haired man gave her his haughtiest look. "Didn't think you would ever be walking again."

Elsa narrowed her eyes threateningly and held out both hands in front of her. She was fed up with his abusive behavior. If Hans hit her again, she would freeze his fingers off. "Well, I am. Out of my way, Hans." She tried to step around him, but he cut her off again.

Hans crossed his arms and flashed a suggestive smile. "Looking for someone, Frosty?" He pretended to strain his ear and listen intently. "Awfully quiet today, isn't it? No singing, no music, and no bikes crashing into suits of armor. And definitely no talking reindeer. What could have happened?"

Something was off about his demeanor. He was far too relaxed and nonchalant. Besides, the castle _was_ awfully quiet.

Elsa's face whitened in shock and horror. "Where is my sister? And Kristoff? What have you done with them?" A thin layer of hoarfrost began creeping up the walls at the Snow Queen's distress.

"In the dungeons, of course." He gave a loud, pretentious yawn and tried to look as bored as possible. "Don't worry, Frosty. I'm sure our darling Anna will survive. She's a tough one. After all, getting locked up is nothing foreign to her. Wouldn't you agree?"

In a gust of blind fury, Elsa summoned a razor-sharp icicle into her fist and thrust it straight at Hans' chest. Her beautiful sapphire eyes became ominously cold. "You sonofabitch!" she shrieked furiously. "Let them out, now!"

But Hans would not be so easily deterred. After all, he held the trump card. Anna and Kristoff were under constant supervision by his loyal guards. If Elsa lifted a finger against him, his men would pump the prisoners full of bullets and crossbow bolts in a matter of seconds.

"Sorry Frosty, can't do that. You've been a very naughty girl, and something had to be done to keep you in line. You see, with your darling Anna and Reindeer Boy in the dungeons, we have all the power. Defy me one more time and they go straight to the guillotines. Now, are you gonna be a good girl or not?"

Bit by bit, her resistance melted away. Elsa dropped the hand holding the icicle, and angry tears scalded her cheeks. "Hans, you bastard!" she howled miserably. "You promised! This was part of the contract! If I married you, you promised to leave them alone!"

Hans shrugged indifferently. "And you refused to consummate, so I guess we're even. But I'm a reasonable fellow, and I'm willing to compromise. As long as you behave yourself during the week, I'll let you visit your stupid brat of a sister and that dirty peasant for ten minutes every Saturday. I guess you do owe Anna an apology for causing her to get locked up… _again_."

"Hans, _please_!" Elsa sobbed. Her every last vestige of dignity had festered away, as she was reduced to a sobbing wreck pleading for mercy. She felt so defeated, and could do nothing but blindly and desperately appeal to what little humanity he might still have. "They're the only family I have! I promised Anna that nothing would ever come between us again."

But Hans was not moved. "Well, it looks like Frosty's a big fat liar. Then again, you already lied to her for thirteen years, so I guess one more lie is no big deal."

"Let them go, and lock me up in their place."

Hans puckered his lips and tauntingly mimicked her voice. "Aww, how touching. Sorry Frosty, no deal."

* * *

Elsa floated about in a catatonic state, her body and mind completely paralyzed by the sheer enormity of what she had done. For the second time in their young lives, her free-spirited little sister was being locked up… because of her. _Maybe I should cease to exist,_ she thought miserably. _Maybe Mama and Papa should have killed me that night. I wind up hurting everyone to gets too close to me. I spent thirteen years of my life shutting Anna out because I was an emotional wreck. Now I'm shutting her in._

She shuffled into her study and plopped heavily down on the chair. Safe in the sanctuary of her study, Elsa quickly immersed herself into a massive pile of paperwork, and began reading at a feverish pace. But there was no purpose and no point to her frantic movements. She already had those documents memorized by heart, and had already put their words into practice months ago. Yet she continued to plow inexorably through the stack of papers. Anything to keep her mind occupied, lest it completely overflow with grief and self-loathing.

She had already failed spectacularly at being Anna's big sister. That Elsa knew with all her heart. Being Queen of Arendelle was the only thing she'd ever done well. It was the only platform upon which she'd ever made a positive difference in the world. Overwhelmed by feelings of shame and worthlessness, all Elsa could do was completely engross herself in the only thing she was good at. Only then could she even begin to hope that her life wasn't a complete and utter waste.

But once again, she would not be alone for long. A sharp rapping on the door broke her out of her trance. Elsa sighed and cursed silently.

"Excuse me," she began in a peeved tone, without even bothering to turn around. "When I'm working, I prefer not to be bothered."

Brian was already at her side. Elsa tried her hardest to look annoyed, yet deep down inside she desperately wished he could see through her façade. She hoped he could see just how badly she really wanted him to stay, in spite of her terse demeanor.

The young physician got straight to the point. "Elsa, you aren't really working, are you?"

"That's a bold assumption," Elsa stated plainly. "Are you accusing me of neglecting my duties towards Arendelle?"

Brian was not fazed in the least. He stepped even closer and draped an arm over her shoulder. "There is not a man alive who would ever accuse you of that. But I know you too well, Elsa. I know why you're really doing this, and it isn't healthy."

Elsa feigned ignorance. "What are you talking about?" But beneath that tranquil, apathetic exterior, she was caving in.

Doctor Helmholtz drew a deep breath and seated himself next to her. "Elsa, I know why you're doing this. You feel guilty about what has happened to Anna. You're feeling frustrated and powerless—"

"Stop it! That is none of your business!" Elsa's voice cracked as she attempted to shout him down. But deep down inside, she wanted so much for him to continue. To speak the words and articulate the emotions that she was afraid to admit.

Brian gestured around the study. "This is where you are most in your element. This is the place where you have had the most personal success in life. That is why you are here, trying to distract yourself and numb the feeling that you can't do anything right."

He did it. He had said the magic words. Elsa's final defenses crumbled away. That cool, impassive façade melted away to reveal who she truly was. A heartbroken, confused young woman whose world had been torn asunder despite her best efforts at keeping it intact. Like a child, she threw herself into his arms and was gathered in.

"It's true," her voice came out in barely a dejected whisper. "I'm such a wreck. I just want to at least do something right, feel that I'm at least good for something…" Then she calmed down and stared him inquisitively in the eye. "You seem to know a lot about this."

Brian sighed. It was time he laid bare his vulnerabilities too. "I used to be the exact same way. But even more."

Elsa said nothing, prompting him to continue. "As a child, I was very insecure. I didn't think anyone ever genuinely cared about me. I wanted so hard to be liked and appreciated, and worked so hard to get there. But it just led me down an endless rat race. When I was a failure, I was jealous and resentful of those around me. When I became a success, I was worried that other people might be jealous or resentful of me. I became so edgy and defensive, and was constantly afraid that I wouldn't get my dues. I did everything with an _I'll show them!_ mentality. I went on a downward spiral of constantly looking for love and respect, but never being satisfied. Eventually I started wondering if anyone ever really cared about me. Or if I ever really cared about anyone. Have I ever truly done a good deed in my entire life? Have I ever done anything without selfish ulterior motives? Soon I felt like the most victimized and misunderstood person in the entire world."

"Sometimes I even wonder why I became a doctor. Did I really care about helping people, or did I just want the money and prestige? When I stood up for people being bullied, did I really care about them? Or was I only trying to avenge my childhood self? Sometimes I wonder whether I ever had an identity of my own, or whether I was just a slave to my pathological need to be appreciated."

Elsa stopped to mull over this revelation. She couldn't deny that she knew the feeling, albeit to a much lesser extent. It wasn't a pleasant one.

When she first ascended the throne over two years ago, she too was full of insecurities and fears. She was worried that people would look down on her for being a young, female and unmarried monarch. For her unique abilities. Fueled by a desire to prove her worth, Elsa worked herself ragged to raise Arendelle to new heights. No one could dispute the results. Literacy had boomed, public health thrived, crime rates plummeted and money flowed into the kingdom like a river. But only when she focused on the love she felt towards her people, did that undercurrent of discontentment completely vanish.

When she let love be her sole motivator, her responsibilities ceased to be a chore. Only then was she completely at peace. Elsa hoped that Brian could be at peace too. Slowly, she rose to her feet and pushed the stack of papers away.

"Where are you going?" Brian queried.

Elsa smiled at him with those twinkling sapphire eyes that made his stomach flutter. "I'm going to stop sitting around feeling sorry for myself, and find a way to rescue my sister and Kristoff."

"That's a wonderful idea," Brian agreed. "But there is something I'd like to ask of you first."

"What's that?"

Brian took both her hands gently into his own. "Would you like to build a snowman?"

Elsa's face lit up and she practically leapt into the air. "YES!" she shouted enthusiastically. Embarrassed, she quickly threw both hands over her mouth. "Um, I mean… yes. That sounds wonderful."

As they passed through the halls on their way to the castle gardens, Elsa turned her head and peeked at Brian shyly out the corner of one eye. "Thank you for healing me." Her cheeks flushed a delicate rosy hue. "In more ways than one."


	16. Hans Humiliated

**We are getting very close to the climax of the story! That will happen around Chapter 19-20. The main conflict will be resolved around Chapter 24, and there will be a few chapters after that to tie up loose ends and give everyone their happy ending :).**

 **If you hate Hans and/or want to see him suffer, you will like this chapter!**

 **Chapter 16:**

Brian tightened his grip on his briefcase as he descended another flight of stairs. Instantly his senses were inundated with a cold, damp wind and the faint scent of moss. The young physician peered through a half-open door. A row of dim lanterns lined the wall of the long, dark corridor leading to the dungeons.

He had received summons to treat Anna for an upset stomach earlier that hour. It must have been pretty urgent. The guards had all but demanded he "get his bloody ass down there and shut her trap!" Brian made sure to be vague and not leak any details to Elsa. He was confident that he could treat the Princess, but knowing Elsa's precarious emotional state, it was best he took no chances. If she knew that Anna was unwell, Arendelle could be trapped in another eternal winter.

Doctor Helmholtz stepped closer, but stopped dead in his tracks when a sudden chorus of whispers began emanating from deep within that abyss of impenetrable isolation. Brian strained his hearing. Two voices were engaged in a quiet but vehement debate.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" Anna's voice huffed impatiently. "My stomach has been hurting all day! Where is that man?"

"Shut it, you little brat!" One of the guards retorted. "Or I'll give you something to whine about."

"Well, hurry up! Anna demanded. She emitted a series of loud, hacking coughs to prove her point.

Brian tuned out their conversation as he slithered down the dark corridor. Closer and closer. Soon he could see the three guards sitting on the floor, drinking and playing poker. For a split second, he considered rushing them. He had the element of surprise. If he could knock out one of the men and take his sword, perhaps he stood a chance in subduing the others. He could free the prisoners before anyone had the chance to sound the alarm.

No, it was far too risky.

As he entered the clearing, Brian coughed to alert them of his presence. The three men turned and eyed him warily. Brian bowed and spoke meekly. "You summoned me, sir?"

Wesley nodded curtly. The Captain's face was cold and expressionless as he addressed his two subordinates. "Very well, let him pass. Maybe he can get that insufferable little wench to shut up."

"Yeah," Josh agreed. "If she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'll beat her ass." All three guards sniggered and continued exchanging crass remarks

Brian barely stopped himself from whirling around and slamming his fist into the bastard's nose. How dare they talk like that? Nevertheless, he swallowed his anger and proceeded calmly. This was not the time to be temperamental. The last time Brian let his emotions override his logic, he'd gotten an entire kingdom— _his_ kingdom—destroyed.

As the three guards were preoccupied with their lewd jokes, Anna shot Brian a subtle wink. "I'm not really sick," she mouthed.

A wave of relief washed over Brian like a cool, fresh alpine spring. Before he could instinctively gasp aloud and bombard her with incredulous questions, Anna shushed him vigorously. "Play along. Pretend you're taking care of me."

Brian threw a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. Still, the guards were not paying attention. He whispered to Anna in hushed tones, "Don't believe anything Henrik tells you. Elsa is worried sick. Hans and Henrik have been threatening her; that's why she hasn't come to see you. That's why she hasn't done anything. Whatever you do, do NOT listen to Henrik. He's trying to turn you against Elsa, as part of his plan to control her." Slowly, he unpacked his briefcase.

Anna's eyes sparkled as they fell on his scalpel. The polished blade glistened like diamonds, proud and majestic in all its forged glory. One day, Anna would learn that this very tool had saved Elsa's life. Tonight, it would buy her and Kristoff their freedom.

The redhead slid the scalpel up her sleeve. "Sometimes Hans comes into our cells to brag about his so-called victory. Just him, no guards present. Let's see how cocky he is when he finds himself face-to-face to this little thing." The Princess smiled triumphantly. "I can't sit around and wait for Elsa to come save us. It sounds like Hans and Henrik have her completely trapped. Tonight we're busting out of here."

"Take this as well," Brian handed her a tiny amber-colored glass bottle full of ether. "It's not much, but can knock a man out for a few minutes." Anna nodded gratefully and tucked it into her dress pocket.

"Hurry up in there!" Wesley snarled. Brian quickly packed his belongings and stepped outside, back into the light of day. Back into the world of the living and sentient. He crossed his fingers and prayed for a miracle.

* * *

 _Later that day…_

Hans waltzed down into the dungeons late that night. With a terse nod of his head, he dismissed the guards. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. This was his time for fun.

The thirteenth Prince slithered into Anna's cell, where the redhead was apparently fast asleep. "Poor little Anna," he taunted. "If only you knew all the fun Frosty and I have been having together. Too bad you couldn't be there to see it."

Anna did not stir. Hans crept closer and continued to whisper. "Man, you should've seen Frosty after I was done with her the other day. I fucked her so hard, Lard Butt had to surgically remove my dick from inside her."

No reaction. The dungeons remained deathly silent, aside from the occasional draft of wind. Hans took another step forward. "I fucked Frosty so hard, she had to sit on a tub of ice for seven hours…" As Hans stopped to chuckle at his brilliant sense of humor, he failed to notice Anna shifting her hands around underneath the thin blanket.

Hans continued to advance, until he was standing right by the edge of the mattress. "I fucked Frosty so hard—"

With lightning speed, Anna leapt up from her prostrate position and whipped out the scalpel that had been hidden in her sleeve. Before Hans could process what was going on, the blade flashed through the air in a lethal arc and drew a crimson line across the palm of his hand. As the thirteenth Prince recoiled in pain, Anna opened the ether bottle and tossed it into Hans' face. The pungent fumes inundated his nostrils, causing him to choke and gag. Hans felt his head spin and his equilibrium thrown into disarray. He stumbled around blindly, desperately trying to regain his bearings.

Amidst the confusion, Anna swiped the bundle of keys tucked into Hans' belt. He took a furious grab at where he thought she was, but the redhead nimbly ducked aside. With lightning speed, Anna darted out the door and slammed it shut behind her with a jarring crash. She quickly made her way over to Kristoff's cell and began fumbling with the keys.

The ice harvester perked up excitedly. "It worked! You did it!" His chocolate-brown eyes beamed with pride at the fearless, resilient girl he loved so dearly.

The ether was beginning to wear off. Hans bellowed like an angry bull and charged at Anna, only to crash into the cell door with a sickening crunch. The thirteenth Prince yanked and tugged furiously at the bars, but it was no use.

He was trapped in the cell. The warden had become the prisoner.

Hans' eyes flashed with murderous rage, as he began roaring at the top of his lungs. "You're dead, you pathetic little bitch! Just wait till I get my hands on you! I'll cut out your heart and make—"

"You'll have to get out of that cell first," Anna scoffed. She continued fumbling with Kristoff's door, trying one key after another.

"Help! Help! Murder!" Hans shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Go ahead," Kristoff dared. "Keep screaming for help. Let Henrik see that you let his most valuable prisoner escape. Let all your so-called cool friends see that you got overpowered and locked up. How stupid can you get?"

That shut him up instantly. Hans equivocated briefly between the two very bad outcomes. If he let the hostages escape, he'd lose his most powerful leverage over Elsa. Their entire plan to conquer Arendelle—and the world—would fall apart. If he sounded the alarm, Henrik would kill him. Either way, Henrik would probably kill him. No matter what he did, Hans would not escape with his pride intact.

But he was mercifully spared of further deliberation. Their heated conversation hadn't gone unheard. In no time at all, Henrik and his soldiers had arrived on scene. "What the bloody hell is going on down here?" The eldest Westergard demanded furiously.

Anna held out the scalpel at arm's length. "Stay back!" she commanded.

Henrik let out a haughty laugh and drew his sword. With a nod of his head, the guards loaded their crossbows. "Looking for a fight, Princess?"

"I know what you're trying to do, you slimy rat!" Anna snapped. "You keep telling me that it's Elsa's fault I've been locked up. You keep saying that Elsa doesn't care that I'm down here. I know you're trying to turn me against my sister, and it will NEVER work! Not in a million years! Elsa and I have been through so much together. We love each other more than you will ever know, and nothing will ever break us apart!"

As Henrik advanced with his sword drawn, the redhead felt her heart palpitate and sweat trickle down the back of her neck. But she refused to show any sign of weakness. Anna was not about to go down pleading for mercy. They may have taken her freedom, but no amount of chains or bars or concrete walls could ever incarcerate her heart and soul. No amount of propaganda would ever break her ironclad faith in her sister. _You never give up on the ones you love. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always endures. Love never fails._

"Believe what you want about Elsa," Henrik scoffed arrogantly. "I don't really care. Quite frankly, I have much bigger fish to fry. I may not be able to turn you against the Witch, but the rest of Arendelle is a different story. Just watch me. I'll have the whole kingdom screaming for her head on a platter, by the end of this month. Anyways, get back in your cell, now!"

Henrik continued to advance. By now, his sword was only three feet away from her throat. "You aren't really gonna do it," Anna challenged. "You won't touch a hair on my head. If you take me out of the equation, there's nothing stopping my sister from turning you into an ice sculpture. A very ugly one, I might add."

Henrik emitted a loud, long condescending yawn. "Is that the best you can come up with, Feisty-Pants? I always knew you were just a stupid little girl, being only the spare. But I didn't realize you didn't even know how to count. In case you haven't noticed, there are TWO of you. I've half a mind to slash Kristopher's throat and slurp up all his blood, just to prove a point. The threat of harming you will still be enough to keep Witchy in line."

"It's Kristoff!" the blond man argued peevishly.

Anna knew she could not win this round. Henrik was right. Slowly, the scalpel dropped from her fingers and clanged to the ground with the hollow austerity of a pickaxe striking a block of ice.

The King of the Southern Isles leaned over to examine her weapon. His eyes glistened wickedly as he pieced together the clues to deduce what had happened. "This is a surgical knife. Lard Butt gave it to you, didn't he? When he came to visit you earlier today, for that so-called upset stomach?"

Anna could only gape wordlessly at Henrik. She was at a loss for words. Dozens of horrifying scenarios flashed through her mind in a whirlwind of sounds and colors. Would Doctor Helmholtz be punished for what she had done? What about Elsa?

Henrik seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "Don't worry about Lard Butt. I have just the thing for your upset stomach. For what you've done, you and Reindeer Boy will have nothing to eat for three days. But I'm a reasonable man. You can still have all the water you want."

Anna hung her head as she was escorted back into her cell. Henrik's mocking words continued grating on her ears like nails on a chalkboard. "Lard Butt tried to help you escape? How cute. For once in his life, he actually tried to take a stand for something. That stupid fat coward has never done anything worthwhile in his entire life." Then Henrik muttered under his breath, "Unless you count that one time he TRIED to..."

Hans began to laugh at the memories of what had happened thirteen years ago. The smoke that filled the skies. The blood that stained the sea crimson for several miles. The heaps of riches brought back from the obliterated palace. Lard Butt's mother squealing like a pig as Henrik and his men had their way with her.

Poor, pathetic Lard Butt. Didn't he know his place? Didn't he know that he was forever destined to lie at the bottom of the celestial pecking order, to be eternally victimized by those who were stronger and better? Didn't he know that nobody messes with the Westergards?

"Don't laugh too hard, little brother," Henrik warned. Hans' impudent smirk instantly withered, as he remembered what he had done. Soon his countenance was completely paralyzed with fear.

Henrik slapped Hans viciously across the face, sending the younger man sprawling to the floor. "This is for disobeying my orders. I specifically instructed you not to visit the prisoners without guards present."

Henrik removed Hans' belt and yanked his trousers down. "And THIS is for almost letting the hostages escape!" The elder Westergard began swinging furiously at Hans' exposed rear. Hans clenched his teeth, determined to cling to his last vestige of pride. But he couldn't hold back all his screams. Loud, angry curses erupted from his throat and echoed violently off the walls and ceilings. Anna couldn't hold back a snort of laughter as Hans kicked and thrashed furiously.

"You goddamn fucking son of a bitch! Go screw a donkey!" Hans bawled.

Henrik grinned malevolently. "That would be you! YOU can go screw a donkey. I, on the other hand, have my eyes set on a much higher prize. Namely, your precious little witch."

Finally, the belt snapped in two after what must have been a hundred strokes. Hans dropped to the floor in a quivering heap. His teeth chattered and his breathing was ragged as he continued swearing under his breath. But the real pain was in his heart. Hans could hardly believe that his arrogant, swaggering self had been reduced to such a pitiful state. And Anna had been there to witness it.

Henrik grabbed his brother by the ear and yanked him to his feet. "Let that be a lesson to you."

As the King of the Southern Isles stalked away, he threw one final derisive remark over his shoulder. "Maybe you can beg the witch for some ice. After all, you can't possibly sink any lower."

* * *

"Watch this, Elsa. I wanna show you a really neat trick." Brian grinned mysteriously as he retrieved a deck of cards from his pocket. Elsa smiled and leaned in closer. She watched as Brian vigorously shuffled the deck, her eyes focusing on his hands. When he was finished, he gestured for her to pick a card.

Elsa was about to lay the card flat on the tabletop, when he gently pushed her hand back. "Don't show me. I'm supposed to guess."

The blonde held the card carefully out in front of her face, making sure to shield it from wandering eyes. She shot him a playful smirk. "I'd like to see you try."

Brian pretended to sink into deep contemplation. He stroked his chin and ran his fingers flamboyantly through his hair. His eyes were focused hard on Elsa's forehead, peering intently through her skull, discerning the deepest and intimate faculties of her mind. "Seven of Spades?" he ventured.

"You peeked!" Elsa protested. "Try again!" This time, she shuffled the deck herself, and chose a card.

"Jack of Diamonds?"

"Coincidence!" she scoffed.

Brian gave a haughty little laugh. "Whoa there, calm down. Don't be jealous just because you're not the only person with magic around here."

"Again," Elsa demanded. Her competitive juices were kicking in.

Brian stared deeply into her eyes for several seconds, before confidently declaring, "Queen of Hearts."

Elsa playfully threw the card down, feigning anger. "Cheater! I don't know how you're doing it, but you must be cheating!"

 _You certainly are the Queen of my heart,_ Doctor Helmholtz thought fondly to himself. Instantly his jocular demeanor returned. "I said Queen of Hearts, not Queen of Sore Losers."

"How are you doing this?" Elsa cried out. She whirled around, looking left and right, but not a single mirror or window lined the walls. "Seriously, what is it you're doing? There is not a single reflective surface in our vicinity."

"That's where you're wrong, Elsa. There is one. Something so glaringly obvious. Something I can see, but you can't." At these cryptic words, Elsa's wide sapphire orbs shone with confusion. What on earth could he possibly mean?

Brian chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "It's you, Elsa. I could see the reflection of the cards in your eyes."

Elsa lung the entire deck of cards at him. "Brian, you cheater!" she pouted in a most childish and tooth-rottingly adorable fashion. He caught her hand as she threw a playful punch at his shoulder.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?" he spoke in a slow, sultry tone. Brian smiled affectionately into those beautiful, lustrous blue eyes that put the sky to shame. If only he could see the world through her eyes, in not only the literal sense. The poor girl had suffered more heartache than anyone should have to bear in a thousand lifetimes, but never did her heart grow bitter or her eyes become cynical.

Though she had been mercilessly battered by the winds of chance, cruelly tossed about by the vicissitudes of fate and the iniquities of the world, she always remained good and kind. Life wasn't fair. Any mature and successful person ought to acknowledge that. No one could control the circumstances of their birth. People had little or no control over the family they were born into, their gender or nationality, their physical attributes, or their inherent talents. But they could choose whether to take charge, or to perpetually wallow in self-pity and fabricate excuses for their lack of success.

 _We always have a choice,_ Brian thought to himself. _Hans has made the wrong one. He has chosen a path of self-destruction. I will not let that become my life. I am Brian Helmholtz, not Lard Butt. I will stop sitting around dwelling on the past, and move forward. That is my choice._

Brian's contemplations were interrupted by a soft sniffling. It was Elsa. His heart broke with sympathy. She was far too beautiful to have such sadness etched into her features. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

"Anna," she whimpered softly, wiping a stray tear. "Kristoff. Oh Brian, I miss them so much. If only I could see them... tell them how much I love them. I wish I could write a letter or send some gifts. But Hans won't even let me do that."

The doctor took her by the hand and gently helped Elsa to her feet. "Why don't you go into town and buy them a nice box of chocolates? Kai or Gerda would be happy to deliver them with their next meal. Get something for yourself too" He smiled warmly and laid a handful of coins in her palm. "My treat."

* * *

Elsa had barely gotten halfway across the courtyard, when she accosted by the three Southern Isles guards. "Where do you think you're going, witch?" Josh sneered.

The Snow Queen ignored him and tried to step around the three men. But soon she was blocked again. Wesley grabbed a rake leaning against a flower bed, and brandished it menacingly. "You aren't going anywhere, Frosty. Back in the castle, now!"

"I don't have time for this nonsense!" Elsa protested angrily. "This is my home and my kingdom. You have no right to tell me what to do!"

Brandon smirked. "King Hans of Arendelle has given his orders. The gates are closed, and you are not allowed to leave castle grounds."

"Our men have got half a dozen crossbows and rifles pointed straight at Anna and Reindeer Boy this very minute, as we speak," Wesley informed her. "So all your threats and complaints don't carry any weight, Frosty. Besides, you have only yourself to blame for this mess. If you hadn't been so defiant, we wouldn't have to resort to these measures."

"Anna is locked up and totally miserable. What a mess. And it's all because of you," Josh added gleefully. "And now the gates are closed. Gee, you just can't stop breaking promises, can you?"

Tears began trickling down Elsa's cheeks as she absorbed their cruel words. As hurtful as their statements were, she could not deny their veracity. First she had agreed to marry Hans, handing her kingdom into the clutches of that monster. Just a few days later, by resisting Hans on their wedding night, she had gotten Anna and Kristoff locked up. What if Anna had gotten hurt in that attempted escape? And she couldn't even be there to visit her loved ones and tell them how much she missed them!

Above all, if she hadn't shut Anna out for thirteen years in the first place, none of this would have ever happened.

"Hey Frosty, are you crying?" Wesley sneered. "Why is there ice all over your face?"

"Maybe Frosty is crying because nobody loves her," sniggered Brandon.

"Maybe Anna killed herself because she doesn't want to be near you!" Josh doubled over with laughter. "Hey Frosty, how hard would you cry if we cut off Anna's head?"

"Maybe your whole family killed themselves because they hate you so much!" All three guards exploded in a fit of giggles.

"Didn't you sit in Kai's lap and cry for a whole day after Mommy and Daddy died?"

That was a cheap shot. They aimed for her heart, and hit dead center. Thirteen years of conceal, don't feel couldn't stop the tears from streaming.

Wesley prodded Elsa in the back with his rake. "Back in the castle, bitch!"

Elsa whirled around to face him defiantly. "No! I'm sick and tired of this!"

"Aren't you a feisty little thing?" Wesley sneered. "Well, I know just the thing that'll knock the sass out of you. Come on, boys. Let's teach Witchy how to respect her superiors."

But whatever the Southern Isles men were planning to do, Elsa never got to find out. Wesley suddenly crumpled to the ground with a groan of pain. The blonde whirled about to see what had happened. There stood Brian with the rake in his hand, panting heavily.

The young physician brandished his weapon menacingly at Josh and Brandon. "And do you dirtbags have anything else to say?" The two lower ranking guards exchanged frightened glances before scurrying away.

Brian dropped the rake and wrapped a comforting arm around Elsa's waist. "They won't bother you again."

With glowing eyes and warm heart, Elsa returned the gesture. No matter what the future held, no matter how long and difficult the journey through this dark labyrinth of fear and terror, no matter how many more painful days she must endure before peace was restored... Elsa knew she would be forever cherish these moments with this kind, caring man who had stood by her side every step of the way. Though Brian was still struggling with his own vulnerabilities, he never failed to stand as a pillar of strength for Elsa in her moments of weakness. And she wanted him to know how much she appreciated him.

"Brian," she began tentatively. Her stomach fluttered as she turned to meet his gaze. "No matter what you might think about yourself, you're a good man. You've taught me so much about courage, about resilience. Thank you for always being here for me... and I'm proud to be considered your friend." Without thinking, Elsa leaned over and planted a gentle little kiss on his cheek.

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 17!**


	17. Love Isn't Fair

**Guest:** **Thank you for your honesty. I'll admit that writing romance is not my forte, and that the main plot has slowed down a bit in recent chapters. But we are very near the climax, and things will get a lot more interesting there :)  
**

 **Warning: More evil, despicable Hans.**

 **9/9/15, 7 pm update: Following the suggestion of my loyal reviewer jade254, I've made some minor edits to this chapter to make Brian a little tougher in dealing with the Westergards. **

**Chapter 17:**

It was a typical winter morning in Arendelle. Although snow and ice were almost ubiquitous in Arendelle's subarctic climate, the revelation of the Snow Queen's abilities two years ago had given this commonplace occurrence a more profound meaning. It was a cultural icon. A symbol of national pride. Above all, it represented the common bond of love and togetherness that transcended all personal differences.

With Christmas just over the horizon, the entire town was flooded with Yuletide decorations. People hummed and whistled holiday tunes as they went about their daily business. Everyone was in a cheery mood as they bustled from one shop to another, scrambling to find the choicest holiday gifts. But two people were very conspicuously absent from the scene.

There was no Anna engaging the village children in one of her infamous snowball fights, or skipping through the streets, spreading her zealous holiday spirit to all she encountered. There was no Elsa decorating the town with her magnificent creations, which everyone so dearly loved. Unlike last year, there was no fifty-foot Christmas tree or life-sized Nativity scene.

In fact, no one had caught a single glimpse of their beloved Queen or Princess for weeks. The castle grounds had even been declared off-limits to visitors shortly after the royal wedding.

The people couldn't say they weren't curious, but they felt no need to perseverate on the matter or engage in further gossip and speculation. Perhaps the royal sisters were simply growing up, and their playful dispositions were being dampened by adulthood and maturity. Perhaps the recently-wedded Snow Queen was still acclimating to the married life. Maybe she simply needed space and privacy as she navigated the unfamiliar undertakings of her new role. Nothing in the citizens' daily lives had been affected. Business was thriving, infrastructure was working, and the streets were safe. So why bother? There was nothing wrong with minding one's own business.

"Robbers! Thieves! Pirates!" A distressed cry suddenly rang out. Instantly, dozens of heads snapped to attention. There, inside the jewelry store, was the source of the commotion. A short, portly man in his sixties appeared to be tussling with three palace guards.

"Stop!" the store owner bleated again. "This is my livelihood!"

Several other people moved in to help, as the larceny continued to unfold. "Sir, you can't take things without paying!" Someone protested indignantly.

"Sorry." Wesley replied gruffly. The Southern Isles Captain was donned in the forest green uniform of Arendelle's Royal Guard. "I'm just following orders. Queen Elsa has commanded us to bring her back these fine goods."

"Impossible!" several vehement cries rang out. "She would never do such a thing!"

"Yeah!" someone else agreed. "She's visited my establishment dozens of times since the gates opened, and has never been anything but polite and respectful."

The candy store owner shouted, "I've even offered her free chocolate samples before, but she has always paid fair and square."

Wesley was completely unfazed by the staunch opposition to his decree. "See for yourself." He unfolded a roll of parchment and held it high in the air for everyone to see. There was no mistaking the Royal Seal of Arendelle. Without another word, Josh and Brandon began sweeping down the aisles, pocketing one fistful after another of expensive trinkets. In their wanton haste and carelessness, shelves were knocked over and items were broken. But they paid no attention.

The vociferous denial began to wane, giving way to confusion and disbelief. People exchanged uneasy glances and whispers. Impossible! The sweet, caring, compassionate Frosty they all knew and loved would NEVER do such an abusive and tyrannical thing.

Or would she?

* * *

Brian was quietly mulling over a stack of medical records in his office, when the door flew open and Hans came storming in. Before the doctor could utter a single syllable, the thirteenth Prince lashed out his hand and sent the pile of documents scattering to the floor.

"Hey!" Doctor Helmholtz protested indignantly. "I spent all morning working on that!"

"Fuck you and your stupid papers! You're a dead man, Lard Butt. You hear me?" Hans grabbed a glass ornament off of Brian's desk, and hurled it into the fireplace. "You have screwed me over for the last time!" The delicate crystalline object shattered against the brick mantle before dropping into the pile of cinders. Hans also wanted to smash Brian's face into a million pieces. He wanted so badly to destroy this pathetic man who had caused him so much pain and humiliation ever since their childhood days. It was not enough that Brian's entire family and kingdom had perished under the army of the Southern Isles. Hans wanted to personally avenge his own grievances.

"What are you talking about?" Brian was only partially feigning ignorance. This could only be about Anna's near-escape from the dungeons. How on earth did Hans link him to that? Surely Anna wouldn't have ratted him out.

Before Hans could resume his tirade, a colder and more sinister voice sounded from outside the door. "I think you know exactly what he is talking about, Lard Butt." Stepping around the corner and slithering into the room was none other than King Henrik of the Southern Isles.

Henrik folded his arms and slouched against the doorframe. "Tell me, Brian. What happened the last time you tried to stand up for someone? The last time you tried to prove you could do something right?"

At these words, guilt and shame began to cloud Brian's eyes. Drops of cold clammy perspiration trickled down his temples, and his heart thumped violently. He clenched his jaw tightly. Anything to bite back the cry of anguish that threatened to burst from his throat. Brian was determined to retain at least some semblance of dignity in front of Henrik.

The King of the Southern Isles let out a mean little laugh. "You wanna know something, Lard Butt? I couldn't care less that you killed my bastard brother. Prince Justin was an idiot, and I would've had him executed sooner or later. I was more interested in the Bowhead Islands' vast supplies of coal and oil. But you gave me the perfect cover-up. Everyone thought Justin was an innocent victim, and I was avenging him. You see? Thanks to you, I was able to destroy your entire country and steal all your stuff… and still appear completely blameless."

"That's not going to work anymore, Henrik!" Brian snarled. "I've put it in the past, and moved forward to become a better man."

Henrik glanced around the room. Almost every inch of the office walls were covered with laurels of Brian's professional stardom through the decades. From the first place ribbon he'd won at the International Science Fair at age sixteen, to his valedictorian award from university. From his acceptance certificate into the National Academy of Science, to a gold medallion signifying the Nobel Prize he'd won two years ago, for his work in anesthesiology.

The eldest Westergard turned the medal back and forth between his fingers, before setting it back down. "Very impressive. You've certainly come a long way, Lard Butt. Unfortunately, all the certificates and achievements in the world don't change the fact that you are still a gutless coward. Always were, always will be. You think you can use your professional accomplishments to convince yourself that you aren't a complete and utter failure as a man? What a pussy."

Brian was was once again rendered speechless. Henrik had practically just read his mind. This wasn't even the first time in his life Brian had been absolutely convinced that Henrik could read minds.

Henrik spun Hans around so that his back was facing Brian, and yanked the younger man's trousers down. Dozens of red and burgundy welts crisscrossed Hans' rear. Layers of skin had split open and peeled back, revealing the raw, tender flesh below. Henrik gave a hollow laugh. "I guess I have to give you credit for this, though. Princess Anna came so very close to escaping. And as for my idiot brother, boy did you get him good!"

"Anna tried to escape? Well, that was certainly very brave of her." Brian chuckled nervously.

"Playing stupid, eh?" Henrik cackled malevolently. "Does _this_ look familiar to you?" Hans reached into his pocket to retrieve the scalpel, and dangled it tauntingly in front of Brian's face. Brian could only stare in shock as his pitiful lie was exposed.

A savage look of determination overtook Hans' handsome features. He was hell-bent on getting his retribution. Lard Butt had humiliated him for the last time. "I don't take kindly to people interfering with my plans. Especially not Lard Butt, the world's ultimate embodiment of failure and cowardice." Hans grabbed Brian by the collar and twirled the scalpel between his fingers. "You sure like to poke your nose into other people's businesses. How about I cut that nose right off your face?"

"Wait!" a shrill voice interrupted. A streak of ice suddenly knocked the scalpel out of Hans' hand, and froze it to the floor. Elsa burst into the room with flushed cheeks and flyaway hair. "It's my fault. Let Brian go," she prattled hastily.

Henrik narrowed his eyes. "Explain yourself, witch."

"The escape plan was my idea," Elsa fibbed. "I slipped Anna a secret message with her meal, telling her to fake the illness. I told Brian to give her the scalpel. This whole thing was my doing. They were simply following along. If anyone should be punished, it's me."

"Oh really?" Hans snarled. He released his hold on Brian. "So you're the reason I was made a laughingstock in front of everyone?" Elsa lowered her gaze and nodded mutely.

"Elsa, no!" Brian shouted. "You can't do this!" How could he let Elsa take the fall for what he had done? Was Henrik right? After all these years, was he still that spineless coward who was always getting into confrontations that he couldn't win… only to let others pay the price for his terrible judgment? Before he could protest further, Henrik clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed a dagger against his side. "Shut your trap, Lard Butt. Just sit back and enjoy the show."

Pure, unmitigated rage surged through Brian's veins. There was no way he was going to helplessly stand back and watch with pedestrian indifference, as those despicable Westergards had their way. He'd spent most of his life doing just that. Admittedly, just the mere sight of Henrik's eyes and the sound of his voice was still terrifying, even after all this time. But for Elsa's sake, he was going to overcome his fears. For Elsa's sake, he wasn't going to let Henrik intimidate him into submission for any longer.

"Over my dead body!" With a sudden burst of strength, Brian twisted around and wrenched free from Henrik's grip. But the King of the Southern Isles was also a very large and muscular man, and was equally determined to emerge victorious from this debacle. Brian and Henrik became a whirlwind of flying fists as they grappled for control and attempted to subdue each other. In a stroke of luck and good timing, Doctor Helmholtz landed a lucky punch and knocked Henrik onto his back. The royal physician clambered to his feet and made a mad dash to reach Elsa.

Until he found himself face-to-face with the Southern Isles guards.

The three soldiers jabbed their swords straight at Brian's throat. "One false move and you're dead, Lard Butt," Wesley threatened.

"Yeah," Hans laughed over his shoulder. "And then we'll take turns fucking the witch _over your dead body_!" The men of the the Southern Isles all burst into lecherous giggles.

The light of the battle drained from his eyes, as Brian realized there was nothing he could do. The young doctor hung his head in shame and defeat as he was once again restrained.

Hans marched forward and smashed his fist into Elsa's face with such vehement force, the bones could be heard shattering like a melon dropping onto concrete. The auburn-haired man smirked with sadism and lust as he felt the warm, moist blood soaking through his sleeve. Elsa flew across the room and crashed into a filing cabinet with a whimper of pain. A crimson waterfall streamed from her nose and mouth, forming a pool of blood on the floor.

"NO!" Brian screamed in horror. He wanted to vomit at the nauseating sound and sight. His dear, sweet Elsa was far too precious to be treated like that. She needed to be gently held and caressed with care. Not to be violently assaulted by that monster of a man.

"Like what you see?" Henrik taunted

The thirteenth Prince licked the blood off his knuckles. "That was for getting me locked up in that cell. For getting my ass beat in front of all my men. And most importantly, for being an insufferable bitch who needs to be put in her place once and for all!" As Elsa rolled over and tried to sit, Hans slammed his boot viciously into her chest, cracking her sternum and rendering her incapable of breathing for thirty full seconds. Elsa instantly crumpled to the floor again. Hans stepped back, nodding with smug satisfaction at her bruised and bloody form.

"She's all yours, Lard Butt!" The Westergard brothers shared a chuckle as they left the office and strolled down the hall.

* * *

For the second time in two weeks, Elsa lay motionless on the hospital mattress, fighting for her life.

Brian uncorked a small, mysterious-looking glass bottle full of fluorescent pink potion, and gently poured a few drops down Elsa's throat. The liquid fizzed softly. This was a very special potion that Brian had created, with some help from Grand Pabbie shortly before the gates were closed. Doctor Helmholtz knew firsthand just how cruel and vicious the Westergards could be. With Hans and Henrik around, a healing potion could always come in handy.

After a few inactive moments, Elsa's wounds began to heal right before his very eyes. In no time at all, she was good as new. _Science bows to magic,_ Brian admitted with a smile on his face. _And love is the strongest magic of all._

Elsa stirred feebly for a few seconds, shifting left and right beneath the blanket. Her eyelids fluttered before parting to reveal those beautiful cerulean eyes. Finally, she grew strong enough to sit up. "Brian!" she held out her arms for a hug, and he happily accepted.

The young doctor sighed heavily. For how much longer would the poor girl be viciously abused by those monsters? How many more of these episodes would she have to endure in the coming weeks and months—or perhaps _years_? Brian knew the answer. As long as Anna and Kristoff were in the dungeons, Elsa was powerless to fight back against the Westergards.

Brian's eyes drifted to the half-empty little vial in his hand. The pink potion continued to effervesce gently. Though he had done most of the work in having it brewed, it was Grand Pabbie who provided the finishing touch. It had cost Brian dearly, but he had been all too happy to do it. Someday, he hoped he could tell Elsa what he had done. Someday, perhaps Elsa would learn of the tremendous sacrifice he had made, because he loved her so.

Elsa was right. She usually was. When actions were performed out of love, they never felt like a burden or hassle.

But would she love him back? Could anyone possibly love someone like Brian Helmholtz? His cheek still tingled from where she had kissed him the previous day. He pushed her back gently and gazed solemnly into her face. "Elsa, why did you do it? You could have died trying to protect me."

 _I love you,_ Elsa wanted to say. _People do crazy things when they're in love._ But she dared not let him see what was truly within her heart. How could Brian ever love her back? He was the finest doctor in the Western hemisphere! Why on earth would he love someone with a defect? Why would _anyone_ love the Snow Queen?

"You've been so kind to me in my time of need," she finally managed. "You're a true friend. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate it."

"But it wasn't fair!" Brian protested. "Hans hurt you because of what I did!"

 _Love isn't fair,_ Elsa wanted to say. _In the presence of true love, there is no "getting even." There is no asking, "what's in it for me?" It certainly wasn't fair that Anna sacrificed herself for me, even though I was never there for her all those years. It wasn't fair, but it was love._

"It's okay. No matter how badly anyone hurts me, you will always be there to heal me." Elsa smiled shyly and laid a hand over her heart. "Besides, Hans can never hurt me right here."

* * *

"We've got her now!" Hans exclaimed gleefully. "As long as Anna and Reindeer Boy are inches away from death at any given moment in time, we have all the power! The witch can't lift a finger to fight back!"

"Damn right," Henrik chuckled. "We've certainly got her backed into a corner. And the best part is, Frosty still thinks it's her fault that Anna's been locked up and the gates have been closed."

"So what are we waiting for?" Hans demanded impatiently. "We already have all the leverage, and there's nothing she can do about that! Let's go see the witch now, and offer her a deal. The prisoners go free only if she agrees to come with us."

"Not so fast," Henrik cut in sharply. "We cannot afford to be hasty. And we cannot afford to make any enemies. The witch is incredibly popular amongst her subjects, and we'll have the entire kingdom against us if we attack too soon. We have to be patient and bide our time. Undermine her popularity, and make people distrust her. Once we convince Arendelle that we are the heroes delivering them from Frosty's wicked ways, it will be all too easy.

"Besides, why rush through the process? Wouldn't you rather have some fun toying with the witch and making her life hell, before delivering the killing strike?"

"Yes!" Hans agreed enthusiastically.

"Anyways," Henrik changed the topic. "The silly people of Arendelle bought our little ruse hook, line and sinker. They seemed to really believe that Frosty sent those guards to break windows and loot those stores. I think it's a good time to put the next phase of our plan into action."

"And what is that?" Hans queried.

"One drop of Formula XIV, and one drop of the witch's blood," Henrik replied smoothly. "You impersonate her for one day, and think of all the havoc you can wreak! I think it's time the people saw their precious Snow Queen for what she truly is."

Hans rubbed his hands together gleefully. "When do we start?"

The elder Westergard smiled maniacally. "Tomorrow."

 **Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome.**


	18. Everybody Hates Frosty

**Kathy22334: Welcome back, and happy belated birthday! I hope you enjoy this chapter too!**

 **This is the "polyjuice potion" chapter! Hans impersonates Frosty for a day. Let's see what happens, shall we?**

 **Chapter 18:**

Henrik sat at a remote table in one of the busiest taverns in Arendelle, with a drink in his hand. Clad in a homely brown cloak that was nothing like the kingly attire he usually wore, he knew he was virtually unrecognizable. He eavesdropped keenly on the miasma of conversation the echoed all around. If he was going to undermine Elsa, it was imperative that he knew where she currently stood. If he was going to render her a monster in the public eye, he'd better first learn how the Snow Queen was being perceived at the moment. He sank lower into his chair, listening intently.

"Can we all agree that something is very strange about Queen Elsa?" A man's voice sounded from the next table. Instantly, Henrik snapped to attention.

A murmur of voices arose in response to that bold assertion. The same man continued, "I mean, no one has seen her for over a month now. Princess Anna is also nowhere to be found, and the gates have been closed. No one has been allowed in. Not even the children. It's almost as if they have something to hide...again."

"Yeah," a middle-aged man adored in fisherman's clothing agreed. "I still remember the first time the gates were closed. To be frank, all this secrecy and isolation is starting to make me really curious. What the hell is going on? What is it that they're keeping from us?"

A third voice rose sharply to offer a dissenting opinion. "I can't believe you two! Do you even hear what you're saying? Would Queen Elsa— _Frosty_ —ever do anything that isn't to the best interests of Arendelle?"

The first man faltered. "I'm not accusing her of anything. All I'm trying to say is that she has been acting very strange recently."

"Our kingdom has _never_ had a leader more strong, wise, caring or prudent than that lovely young lady who currently wears the crown. If she's acting funny, I'm sure she has a good reason," the bartender declared resolutely.

Someone else chimed in. "There've been reports that she sent royal guards to break into stores and steal jewelry for her. I've also heard that she threatened to punish some children who were pestering her to build a snowman. Something weird is definitely going on."

"There has to be a logical explanation."

"Those are just rumors!"

"Then explain why the gates are closed!"

Henrik floated about in a state of pure, heavenly ecstasy as the vehement debate continued raging on. It was working. Frosty's ironclad reputation was beginning to crumble. Like the great glaciers of the North Mountain, the high and mighty would topple only under an inordinate amount of time and persistence. But nothing and no one was infallible. Soon the whole kingdom would be watching Frosty's cataclysmic fall from grace, and Henrik would be getting front-row seats.

* * *

"Did you get it?" Henrik demanded. "One drop of the witch's blood, like I asked?"

Hans nodded offhandedly. "Piece of cake. She probably lost a whole pint of blood after I smashed her face in. It wasn't hard to get one drop." The thirteenth Prince giggled gleefully at the fond recollection, and his eyes glowed with pride. "But that was nothing compared to what I did to her last time. Oh boy, you should've seen the witch after I was done with her on our wedding night! I literally broke half the bones in her entire body! And Frosty had blood shooting out every orifice of her body, including her—"

"Enough," Henrik cut him off. "How about the Formula XIV? Did you bring that?"

A look of confusion crossed Hans' face. "I thought _you_ had it."

Henrik boxed his ears soundly. "No, you idiot! How stupid do you think I am? Of course I wouldn't trust you with our main supply! I gave you a little bottle for your own usage; the one without the safety seal. Remember?"

"Oh yeah." Hans reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a tiny vial full of ghostly green potion.

"Good." Henrik nodded in satisfaction. "If you lost it for any reason, you're a dead sonofabitch. Now, what are you waiting for? This transformation isn't gonna make itself happen, is it?"

Hans quickly swallowed the single drop of blood, then tilted his head back and let a few drops of fluorescent green potion fall onto his tongue. He wanted to gag at the bitterness of the concoction, but forced it down his throat. Almost immediately, an odd sensation flooded his entire being. His skin tingled as if it were covered with a million invisible ants, and a numbing vibration propagated through his bones. Hans could feel his stature shrinking, his shoulders narrowing, his eyes enlarging, and his scalp prickling as meter after meter of wispy blonde hair sprang forth from the follicles. Soon his clothes became baggy and his feet began slipping around in boots that were now far too large. There was a constricting feeling in his throat, as his vocal cords shrank and his Adams Apple receded. Hans nearly laughed aloud and dropped to his knees, when his chest and pelvic region were struck with a very odd tickling sensation.

Just as suddenly as it began, it was over. In less than a minute, the transformation was complete. Henrik smiled as he led his "brother" towards a body-length mirror. "Like that?"

Hans stared incredulously into the mirror. Elsa's face stared back at him, except her eyes were hazel-green. When he blinked, Elsa blinked. When he lifted a hand to stroke the soft blonde tresses that cascaded elegantly over his shoulders, Elsa's hand moved in the same configuration. When Hans instinctively recoiled in disbelief, Elsa's mouth dropped open and she staggered back into the plane of the mirror.

"Unbelievable," Hans finally managed to gasp in Elsa's soft, graceful voice. "I look and sound just like the witch. Except for the eye color."

"You'd better believe it," Henrik chuckled, staring at his transformed brother. "Until the clock strikes midnight, you are identical to Frosty down to the very last detail. The only difference being that you still have your own eye color. But nobody will notice or care."

Hans' eyes sparkled with delight. "Did you say _every last detail_?"

"Yes I did. Now, pay attention. This is a very powerful but rare property of Formula XIV. It allows you to assume another person's form for up to twelve hours. But here's the catch. You can only do it ONCE. You hear that? You only get—"

"Every last detail?" Hans gushed again. He ran both hands up and down his torso, savoring the luscious curves of the hips. "I am completely identical to Frosty... in every way, shape and form?"

"Yes!" Henrik snapped in annoyance. "Now listen! Like I was saying, people are starting to get suspicious. They are wondering why the gates are closed and why the royal sisters are nowhere to be seen. They think Frosty is hiding something... again. This is our golden opportunity to confirm those suspicions. To push them over the edge. People are really starting to resent the Witch. I bet one more major bombshell is all it'll take, before they start calling for her head on a platter. Once Frosty has been driven out of her own kingdom, she will have no choice but to join us!"

Hans was practically beaming. "Don't worry, I've got this all figured out. Head into town in my Frosty persona. Be really rude and nasty towards everyone. Act as arrogantly as possible. Frosty's shit is worth its weight in gold, and her bloody tampons are made of silver. Those dirty peasants are beneath me. If they don't drop to their knees and lick the dirt in my presence, off with their heads!

Henrik rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Perfect. Now get your sexy ass out there, and show poor foolish Arendelle who their beloved Snow Queen really is."

Hans salute it. "Right away. But there's something else I'd like to do first. It'll only take about half an hour."

"And what is that?" Henrik queried.

Hans was trembling with excitement as his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, and his eyes darted back and forth between Henrik and the body-length mirror. "Can I have some time to enjoy the view first? It's not every day I get the witch's body to myself."

"Fine. But be quick about it."

As Henrik left the room, Hans wasted no time in stripping down and ogling ravenously at the green-eyed Elsa in the mirror.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Hans slipped out the back door of the castle, and made his way towards the village. He wore a simple white cotton dress that Henrik had nicked from Elsa's wardrobe. The thirteenth Prince made a painstaking effort to walk gracefully and imitate Elsa's mannerisms, but soon decided that it was superfluous. After all, he was here to ruin Elsa's pristine reputation. To alter her public image and conform it to _his_ desires.

A surge of excitement rushed through his veins. Except for his green eyes, his body was completely identical to Elsa's down to the very last detail. Hans could behave as he wished with complete impunity. As long as he lay hidden beneath this magical facade that made him impervious to embarrassing himself or getting in trouble, he had complete and unfettered freedom. Hans could do and say the most egregious things, and it would ultimately be the witch whose reputation would suffer. It would be the witch who would suffer the consequences of what he had done. And she wouldn't even know it!

After all the misery and injustice Hans had endured in his youth, it felt so good to be in a position of power and manipulation. For the first time in his life, he had control over someone else's fate. And Hans was determined to take full advantage of this opportunity.

Hans turned his heels and sauntered down another cobblestone street. It wasn't long before his presence was noticed.

A middle-aged woman wearing a white apron smiled and curtsied. "Good day."

"What do you want?" Hans snapped curtly with Elsa's face and voice. "Beat it, you dirty peasant."

The woman's features devolved into utter shock and confusion. What on earth had happened to the sweet, angelic Queen Elsa that everyone knew and loved? But she was in no position to ask questions, so all she could do was scurry away in fear. Perhaps Frosty was simply having a bad day.

 _Damn right, you fat ugly bitch,_ Hans smirked inwardly. _You can kiss Frosty's ass. Actually, don't. That's my job._

As Hans meandered his way further into the village, a small group of children raced forward to meet him with shining eyes. "Frosty! Come build a snowman for us!"

Hans twisted Elsa's gentle features into a steely stare. "Who's Frosty? It's _Your Majesty_ to you!"

The children's jaws dropped and their cheerful faces crumpled. They cowered in fear. "But... but... we've always..."

"Yes? Spit it out. I hate stuttering!" Hans was thoroughly enjoying himself, as Elsa's voice continued speaking in that mean, cold, vituperative tone.

A blonde-haired boy who seemed no more than four years old seemed oblivious to the situation. "Your eyes are green, Frosty! I like them!" he piped up eagerly.

"Nobody cares what you like. Now leave me alone," Hans brushed them aside roughly and continued on his merry way.

A group of young men were setting up a hockey rink in the park nearby. As "Elsa" passed, two of them eagerly raced over to meet her. "Frosty! Could you ice over the pavement for us?"

"I thought I told everyone to stop calling me Frosty!" Hans snapped.

The two youths blushed crimson and fell to their knees in awkward bows. "We're sorry, Your Majesty. That was awfully rude. If you would be so kind to spare us a few—"

"What part of _no_ don't you understand?" Hans growled back. _Actually, I'm the one who doesn't take no for an answer._

The commotion hadn't gone unnoticed. Soon other people in the park were staring on in confusion and enthrallment. What on earth was going on? This strange individual looked and sounded just like Elsa. She spoke with Elsa's voice, walked with Elsa's gait, and bore every single one of Elsa's features down to the most minuscule detail. But she exuded pure venom with every word she spoke. There was no warmth in her being, but only a cold heart and a vengeful spirit and a most hateful disposition. Did Elsa freeze her own heart? What other explanation could there possibly be?

Hans leapt onto the park bench as best he could in Elsa's heeled sandals. "Do you want to go straight to the guillotines?" he roared at the top of his lungs. Instantly, everyone froze in pure shock and terror. The young man who requested a hockey rink barely managed to budge from his petrified position, and shake his head. Rivulets of cold, clammy sweat saturated his brow, and his face was whiter than snow.

"Then all of you shut the fuck up and quit bothering me!" Hans snapped Elsa's fingers, and a guillotine made of solid ice instantly took form. Hans' temporary magic was far weaker than Elsa's, but it was enough to serve his purpose.

An elderly gentleman leaned over and whispered to his friend as discreetly as possible. "Did I hear correctly? Did Queen Elsa just say—"

"You're damn right, Queen Elsa just said fuck," Hans interrupted loudly. "Why the fuck can't I say fuck? It doesn't hurt anyone, for fuck's sake. Although that's more than I can say for myself if you folks don't leave me alone." Hans spun on his heels and stomped back to the castle.

As soon as the doors were securely locked in his wake, Hans slipped off his high-heeled sandals and made a beeline for his room. Henrik sat on the bed, awaiting the news. "How did it go?"

"Wonderful," Hans smirked, his eyes brimming with excitement. "Those idiots didn't even know what just hit them. If Arendelle isn't overthrowing Frosty by the end of next week, I'll eat my hat."

Henrik glanced at his watch. "The spell expires in about an hour. Why don't you spend that hour in the bathroom? They have some really nice mirrors. I'm sure you can never get enough of the witch's nice curvaceous ass or those fat juicy tits. When you're done, meet me in the kitchen. We'll have a drink to your success."

As the Westergard brothers scurried away to complete their next set of tasks, they failed to notice that they had left the door open. They also failed to notice that Hans had left his little bottle of Formula XIV open and uncorked, sitting in plain view on the dressing table.

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 19!**


	19. Hans Takes The Plunge

**Guest: Thank you for reminding me that I forgot to mention where the real Elsa was in the previous chapter! Since she isn't allowed to see Anna & Kristoff and isn't allowed to leave the castle, I'm assuming that she's spending most of her time cooped up in the study or library (as mentioned in Chapter 15). Also, according to the picture book A Sister More Like Me, it is shown that Elsa spent almost all her time reading and studying when she was locked up. So I'm taking that as canon.**

 **If you hate Hans, you will like this chapter! His plan to destroy Elsa's public image will backfire in a rather macabre way.**

 **WARNING: Profanity, violence, and sexual content. There've been other chapters with such material, but this one's quite a bit darker. **

**Chapter 19:**

Matthias the stable boy whistled softly as he trekked up the spiral staircase and towards the library, to return a book he had borrowed. He was a lithe, handsome lad with golden blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. Matthias was an honest and hardworking youth, but was unfortunately cursed by a streak of impulsiveness. He also had the propensity to become curious about things that were best left alone.

Every day, Matthias considered himself blessed to have landed this job. The pay was generous, the schedule was accommodating, and Queen Elsa was truly the nicest, warmest and gentlest person ever. That tire pump she had constructed out of ice had never ceased to amaze him and fill him with awe. Each time he stepped onto castle grounds, a strange sense of pride and purpose flooded his being. He felt like he was a part of something special. Something far greater than himself. On occasion he dreamed of that distant someday when he was all grown up. Of swashbuckling adventures and cheering crowds—his heart swelling with pride as he knelt before the entire royal court, waiting for Elsa to knight him.

He was old enough, fourteen years and a few months, to have lost the round face and wide-eyed naiveté of childhood, but not yet old enough for puberty to have made him a man. There was a very distinct aura of early-teenage awkwardness about him. The teenage stable boy wasn't a particularly perceptive young man, but he hadn't failed to notice that something was amiss. The gates had closed, and there was a distinct shift in the overall atmosphere. The palace staff seemed so furtive and secretive, as if every single person had something to hide. Elsa also seemed to never leave her study. People hardly saw her at all anymore. In fact, she and her new husband had yet to make a single public appearance together!

Ever since the Snow Queen married, she had become so withdrawn and distant. Was she unhappy? Was King Hans unkind to her?

Matthias quickly dismissed those thoughts. That was none of his concern. What business did a lowly stable boy have, speculating about the Queen's personal life?

Deep in his thoughts, Matthias failed to notice that he was about to walk straight into a console table. Until his hip collided sharply against the wood, and a vase toppled to the floor with a loud crash.

"No! What have I done?" the boy gasped aloud. _Shit! Shit! Shit! Frosty loved that vase! What am I gonna do? I'll have to tell her!_ Mind reeling in panic and self-reproach, he knelt down and began to haphazardly collect the broken fragments into his bare hands. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a spectacularly unintelligent decision. His fingers slipped in haste, and the sharp jagged edge sliced neatly through his palm.

Matthias cursed himself silently, wincing as blood trickled down his wrist. He equivocated briefly between continuing to clean the broken vase, versus taking a detour to the infirmary first. Before he could deliberate further, a flash of green caught his eye.

There in an apparently unoccupied guest bedroom, sitting on the dressing table, was a tiny glass vial full of swirling emerald liquid that seemed to glow and effervesce. It vaguely resembled a soothing ointment his mother gave him when he was eight years old, after the boy scraped both knees falling off his horse.

 _Perhaps I can use that on my hand,_ Matthias thought. _I already broke Elsa's favorite vase. I don't want to trouble her with any more of my trivial issues. I can take care of this myself._ Curiosity soon overrode sound judgment. Matthias slipped through the ajar doorway and grabbed the bottle. He looked it over for a few seconds, deliberating whether or not he should take the risk. _Maybe I shouldn't. It's not even labelled. But it looks innocent enough..._

"Matthias?" a soft, graceful voice suddenly emanated from behind him. The stable boy nearly dropped the little vial as he whirled around. There was Elsa, standing in the threshold looking mildly confused. "Is everything all right?"

The teenager began to panic. His face paled and his heart palpitated frantically. Trepidation flooded his entire being as he fumbled hopelessly for words to excuse—or at the very least explain—his incompetence. _I've really blown it,_ he thought miserably. _Elsa's gonna think I'm the biggest idiot ever. She must have found the broken vase too. And now she's caught me trespassing. She might even suspect that I'm stealing! I'm really in trouble now…_

"I'm sorry!" He blurted. Then he began stammering incoherently at breakneck speed. "I didn't mean to break the vase! I was going to clean it up, but I cut my hand and I didn't want to bother you over something so silly. Then I saw this little bottle sitting on the counter, and I thought I could use it to take care of myself so I wouldn't have to trouble anyone else. I thought it was some sort of ointment! I just found it lying around. I didn't snoop into any drawers or dig through any safes or do anything sketchy. Honest! I swear to God I wasn't—"

He stopped mid-sentence when Elsa laid a hand on his shoulder. "Matthias, slow down. I never thought for a minute that you were doing anything wrong," she said with a slight chuckle. "I trust you." Her eyes were twinkling, and there was not a trace of anger or accusation in her tone. The stable boy began to calm down.

Elsa took a step back and gestured vaguely around. "The castle is a second home to you, sweetie. You are welcome to walk around and explore any time. If you see anything you like, it's yours. Now, why don't we have Doctor Helmholtz take a look at that hand?"

"Could you do it instead?" Matthias suggested hopefully.

During her period of isolation, Elsa had been forced to develop a large degree of self-sufficiency. Because the servants could not attend to her needs, she learned how to do many tasks on her own. Treating illnesses and injuries had been one of those tasks. Elsa was no professional, but she did possess quite a bit of working knowledge in medicine and physiology.

The Snow Queen smiled fondly at the young boy, who so strongly resembled her dear brother-in-law. She was almost sure that Kristoff had been just as adorably awkward when he was fourteen. In fact, he still was sometimes. "I'm no doctor, but I'll do what I can."

After tending to his lacerated hand and sending Matthias on his way with a delectable bag of chocolate truffles, Elsa sat on the bed in silent contemplation. She turned the tiny vial back and forth between her fingers, peering intently at its contents. Perhaps it was some perfume or cosmetic product? No, it couldn't be. She certainly didn't recognize it as belonging to herself or Anna, or anyone else who lived and worked in the palace. Besides, the mysterious emerald fluid seemed to glow and sparkle in a most unnatural manner.

What was this strange little thing, and whom did it belong to?

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle…_

Hans cracked open the door to the large luxurious bathroom, and poked his head out. The thirteenth Prince was still clad in a lacy white nightgown and trapped in Elsa's body. He glanced quickly in both directions. The real Elsa was nowhere in sight. Hans gingerly stepped into the hallway and darted for the stairs. In his haste, he failed to notice a foreboding presence lurking in a darkened doorway. Suddenly, he was grabbed around the waist and unceremoniously flung to the ground.

Hans rubbed "his" sore bottom and glared indignantly into a dozen pairs of haughty, smirking eyes. The entire squadron of Southern Isles guards towered over him, grinning wickedly.

For a moment, Hans forgot that he was in Elsa's body. He gave the twelve men his most authoritative stare, before barking out a curt order. "You boys are supposed to be guarding the prisoners! Henrik will have your heads on a platter when he finds that you've left them completely unattended. Back to your posts, now!"

"Hello Frosty," Wesley ignored "Elsa's" puny attempt at asserting herself. "It's way past your bedtime. Little girls should be in bed at this hour."

Hans uttered a rapid stream of threats and curses. As Elsa's voice registered in his ears, he stopped abruptly. The guards didn't know about the transformation. Nobody knew except for himself and Henrik. In the dim lighting, they couldn't possibly have seen his green eyes. _They think I'm the real Elsa! I could prove my identity by telling them something that only Hans would have privy to. But Henrik would kill me if I let anyone know our secret!_ Hans quickly clammed up. He was much more afraid of Henrik, than he was of a few perverted guards.

Brandon laughed. "Those are some strong words coming from sweet, innocent Frosty!"

Wesley snorted under his breath. "Frosty won't be so innocent once I'm through with her."

"Yeah," Josh sneered. "Anyways, it's been a month since we arrived in Arendelle, and I'm in need of a good fuck. What do you boys say to that?" The other soldiers all began chattering excitedly as they crowded in closer.

"Stay back, you sonofabitches!" Hans snarled. "Nobody's fuckingFrosty tonight!" He raised his dainty little hands and blasted Wesley, Josh and Brandon with a powerful flurry. Unfortunately, his derived powers were far weaker than Elsa's. Fluffy, insubstantial puffs of snow collided harmlessly against their faces, not deterring the three men in the slightest.

"Frosty's looking pretty powerless to me!" Brandon said smugly.

"Leave me alone, you dirty bastards!" Hans howled miserably. "And go guard the goddamn prisoners!" The guards only laughed as they continued to advance.

"Not so fast!" Wesley interjected. The Captain's voice was strong and commanding as he issued his order. He unsheathed his sword and gestured at the men standing at the back of the group. "Only those with at least two Silver Star Medals get a piece of the witch. The rest of you losers can just stand and watch. Besides, nobody lays a finger on her until I've had my fill." The lower ranking guards grumbled in frustration, but had no choice but to obey.

By now, Hans was no longer angry or indignant. He was terrified. Here he was, trapped in the body of the most delectable goddess to ever live, surrounded by a dozen ravenous brutes. The spell would not expire for another hour. He had to buy himself some time. In a fit of panic, Hans vigorously blasted snow in all directions, but inflicted minimal damage at best. Only a thin stream of snowflakes trickled out from his palm.

Secrecy be damned, this was a true emergency. No matter what Henrik did to him later, he had to get out of this nightmare. "I'm not the witch!" Hans babbled desperately. "I'm Hans! I drank a magic potion and turned into her!"

Josh stroked a massive bulge in the front of his pants. "I'll inject you with some of _my_ magic potion tonight." All twelve guards roared with laughter.

Elsa's voice became increasingly shrill and whiny, as Hans continued pleading his case. "It's true, I swear it! Just wait one more hour, and the spell will wear off. You'll see! I really am Hans!"

"If you really are Hans, then prove it right now… _witch_!" Wesley suddenly lunged forward and slammed his lips onto Hans' with bruising force. He seized two fistfuls of blonde hair and yanked that slender, curvaceous body firmly against his own. The Captain of the Guard began nipping and biting vigorously at the smooth alabaster skin. Soon Elsa's face and neck were covered with dozens of hickeys. He tore open the collar of the nightgown and continued attacking every inch of soft vulnerable flesh he could find.

"I have green eyes!" Hans shrieked hysterically. Tears poured down his cheeks as the dreaded inevitable began to dawn upon him. He couldn't believe the cruel irony of the situation. _This can't be happening! I'm the one who's supposed to be screwing Frosty!_

Hans continued to prattle frantically. "The castle of the Southern Isles has seven clock towers! There is a painting of Da Vinci's _The Last Supper_ on the third floor of the West Wing! I can name all thirteen Westergard brothers, and their dates of birth! The chief advisor's name is Lars Johansen, and he just turned seventy years old this spring! The royal chef's name is—"

"Anyone could've told us that!" Wesley scoffed. Before Hans could protest further, Josh and Brandon threw him back onto the floor. Hans struggled vigorously, but his arms and legs were pinned. The two men drew their daggers and quickly stripped away the dress and undergarments."Damn Frosty, you've got a nice rack there. And I see you're still a virgin. Well, that's not gonna last long."

"Spread her out!" Wesley commanded.

"Help!" Hans screamed. "Somebody, please! Help me!"

"Relax, witch." Another guard chuckled. "Just close your eyes and imagine that it's Lard Butt making sweet love to you."

Pain exploded in his lower regions, like a dull dagger gutting him and tearing out his entrails. Hans threw back his head and screamed until his throat was raw and his voice was gone. A loud chorus of whistles and cheers and lecherous jokes erupted from the guards.

Finally, he could handle it no longer. The agony was unbearable. His mind went blank and his vision dulled, as Hans mercifully descended into oblivion. The last thing he heard was Wesley grunting and moaning loudly, "Oh man, I'm about to set off an eternal winter inside Frosty's icy cavern."

* * *

Doctor Helmholtz was pacing back and forth, wearing out his heels against the carpet. Ever since Hans' latest assault against Elsa, he hadn't had a moment of peace. He failed to protect her. He hadn't been strong enough. Every time Brian closed his eyes, all he saw was her broken body lying in a heap on the floor of his office. All he could hear was the sickening crunch that erupted when Hans' fists bludgeoned her delicate face and bruised it beyond recognition. _Elsa was completely innocent. It should have been me._

Bottom line, as long as Anna and Kristoff were at the mercy of the Southern Isles guards, Elsa was completely powerless against Hans and Henrik. She couldn't expose their treacherous plot or have them removed from her kingdom. She couldn't fight back against the incessant onslaught of physical and verbal abuse from Hans. She couldn't even open the gates.

He gazed down at the little flask of bright pink potion in his pocket, and smiled warmly. _Love will thaw... and love will heal._ He owed Elsa's life to this wondrous concoction. Brian had worked for weeks on this special potion, scouring every last encyclopedia on natural science and chemistry. Wading his way through oceans of archaic formulas and mind-numbingly pedantic and convoluted texts, working feverishly until he became catatonic with fatigue.

But the recipe required an element of magic that he couldn't provide. As brilliant a doctor he was, magic and alchemy were outside his expertise. That was the one thing he couldn't do. That was Grand Pabbie's specialty. Brian had paid a hefty price to have the job completed, but not once did he regret his loss. In spite of all his professional achievements, he could declare with confidence that this was the worthiest endeavor he'd ever undertake. He was saving a life worth a million times his own.

If he could buy Elsa just one more day of joy and peace, shed one more ray of sunshine upon her beautiful face… he would gladly lay down his life. _You were right, Elsa,_ Brian thought warmly. A _ll my life I've been a prisoner of my own fear. Fear of being disrespected. Fear of being treated unfairly. Fear of failure. Still, no matter how high I climbed, there was always a profound sense of emptiness inside. But when I stopped trying to prove a point, and instead let love motivate me, I felt so content and at peace._

Indeed, even the greatest hardship or loss was tolerable, when it was performed out of love. Brian sighed as a dreamy expression overtook his features. _I wish I could tell Elsa what I did. Let her know how much I love her. But I can't. How could she ever love me back? She's so wonderful and perfect, and I'm... well, I'm me._

His eyes drifted to the little vial of bubbling pink potion. How sustainable or desirable was this solution? Was it truly a solution at all? He couldn't keep fixing Elsa up forever; there was no limit to what Hans and Henrik could do. Was he becoming too dependent on this magic healing potion, letting it give him a false sense of empowerment? Lulling him into complacency and dissuading him from taking more drastic preemptive action against those evil Westergards?

It wasn't enough that he heal Elsa after she had already been hurt. He had to prevent her from getting hurt in the first place. Gone were the days where he assumed a passive stance, and let the Westergards dictate the pace of the game. Brian was going to take charge. He was going to free the hostages by any means possible. Then in no time at all, Elsa would have those despicable Westergards pleading for their lives.

Doctor Helmholtz crept slowly and furtively along the darkened corridors, taking care not to make a sound. But he couldn't silence the hammering of his heart. He had contrived an incredibly bold and dangerous plan to rescue Anna and Kristoff from their confines. Unless he proceeded with utmost caution, he could very well lose his life.

As he came closer and closer to the stairs leading into the dungeons, a most curious sound caught his attention. Brian quickly ducked into a supply closet. A large group of possibly inebriated men were laughing and shouting rambunctiously from behind a closed door. He could discern at least ten voices.

The doctor strained his hearing. Three of those voices belonged unmistakably to Wesley, Josh and Brandon.

If the guards were in that room, then the dungeons were unattended! This was better than anything he could've hoped for. His risky plan was no longer necessary; he had a clear and unimpeded path towards his destination! Excitement exploded in the pit of his stomach.

Brian wasted no time in bolting down the stairs, unlocking one door after another with a spare set of keys that Kai had given him. He descended further and further down into the field of impenetrable blackness, guided only by the dim pinpricks of torchlight in the distance. The familiar scent of mildew in the damp, chilly air was familiar. But this time, it invigorated his senses and spurred him onwards.

Soon he was at the bottom landing. "Anna! Kristoff!" he hissed. Instantly, the Princess and ice harvester snapped to attention. Their mouths hung agape and their eyes were wider than saucers. Brian smiled triumphantly as he unlocked the doors and led them out of their cells. "Let's go," he mouthed silently. "Hurry! No time to waste!"

In her excitement, Anna began bombarding him with questions. "What? How did you—"

Brian held a finger to his lips. "No time to explain." He shoved a pouch of gold into her hands. "You need to get out of here. Far away. Once you're out of the equation, Hans and Henrik no longer have any leverage, and Elsa is free to fight back."

"Let's go to my cabin by the lake," Kristoff suggested. "We can stay there for as long as we need."

Anna shook her head vigorously as they began ascending the stairs. "There is no way I'm gonna run like a coward and leave my sister alone to face those dirty, rotten—"

"No! Brian is right," Kristoff insisted. "I know you don't like the idea of running away, but we must. Elsa is more than capable of taking care of herself. We can't risk getting captured again, or we'll be back to square one."

"I guess," Anna sighed.

The guards were still indulging in their festivities when the trio slipped past the closed door. "I know a shortcut," Anna whispered. "There are tons of secret passages around here."

In no time at all, they had done it. Brian pushed open one final set of doors, and the cool breeze tousled their hair and caressed their sweaty faces. The stars and moon were radiant in the night sky. Anna closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the sweet fragrance of freedom, as if breathing for the first time.

As they prepared to depart, Kristoff enveloped Brian in a strong embrace and clapped him resoundingly on the back. "We can't thank you enough for all you've done for us, mate. And most of all for Elsa." Anna shot him a sly, cryptic wink.

"Wait, what?" Brian was taken aback.

Kristoff grinned impishly. "C'mon, Doc. You can't keep doing this for yourself. You know damn well what I'm talking about." He swung a leg over the saddle, and reached down to help Anna up. "Take care of Elsa for us. Please."

Brian stood motionless and rooted to the ground as he watched them vanish into the distance. Out of the treacherous confines of perfidy and corruption, and into freedom's wondrous light. His lips parted to speak two simple words.

"I will."

 **Now Hans knows how it feels to be on the receiving end. And frankly, I can't say I feel sorry for him.**


	20. The Monster Unchained

**Dear Hans: Karma is a biatch. And so were you in Chapter 19**

 **No, Hans won't be getting pregnant :)**

 **Well, things are certainly looking up! The hostages have been freed, and Hans has received some much-needed karma. But is Henrik done yet? Or does he have one last trick up his sleeve?**

 **Chapter 20:**

"Come with me, Elsa. I have a little surprise for you." Brian gently prodded a blindfolded Elsa in the back, leading her through the hallways. He was positively beaming.

As they turned a corner and descended a flight of stairs, Elsa felt a shiver run through her body. She recognized the scent in the air, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Raw, painful wounds were reopened as she sorrowfully reminisced upon the last time she had been in this place. The day she nearly destroyed the kingdom. The day she nearly lost her sister forever. The day she lost her will to live.

"Brian," she clutched his hand tightly and spoke in a soft, timid tone. "Why are we going to the dungeons?"

Her childlike fear was heartrending. Beneath that strong, regal exterior was an insecure young woman who was just barely learning how to love and trust herself again. A frightened child just recently liberated from that internal labyrinth of dark emotions that had nearly destroyed her humanity. Brian wrapped an arm lovingly around her waist, guiding her every footstep. "I won't let anything hurt you. Do you trust me, Elsa?"

Beneath his touch, Elsa felt her stomach flutter. His presence was so comforting. No harm would come to her as long as she was safe in his embrace. He would take her into his arms, and shield her from the demons of the past and present. When the Westergards goaded to her despair and reminded her of the guilt within, she could simply look into his eyes to find strength and solace.

A million words, thoughts and emotions raced frantically through her mind, demanding release. But all Elsa could say was one simple sentence.

"I do."

And it was all she needed to say.

A few minutes of silence elapsed before they arrived at their destination. Brian was positively beaming as he took Elsa by the shoulders and turned her about. "You may look now."

The blindfold was removed and Elsa had to blink a few times to regain her bearings. But when her eyes finally acclimated to the dim lighting, they were graced by a most wondrous apparition.

Two empty cells lay in stark view. Elsa could hardly believe what she was seeing.

"Anna," she whispered, "Kristoff. Where are they?"

"Safe and free." Brian looked into her eyes and smiled, "Out of harm's way, and waiting to be back by your side."

That was all Elsa needed to hear. Her heart overflowed with relief and gratitude, and tears trickled down her cheeks. She made no motion to wipe them away. The unlocked doors and unoccupied beds told of a triumphant journey. In the face of all odds, hope and goodness had prevailed over greed and treachery. No pernicious voice of evil or scheme of corruption could ever negate the immutable truth that men had known since the dawn of time. That chains and bars and concrete walls could never incarcerate the heart and mind. That men would move mountains and traverse oceans and wage war to secure liberty for their souls.

But there was still work to be done. It was time for Elsa to do her part, and she knew exactly what that entailed. With high spirits, Elsa turned her back on the dungeons and made a beeline for the castle library.

* * *

"You son of a bitch!" Henrik spat furiously. "You let the prisoners escape!"

"For the millionth time, it wasn't my fault! Those bastard guards abandoned their post!" Hans argued back. His face was proud and defiant. But he dared not elaborate further on the details. His impersonation of Elsa was supposed to be kept strictly under wraps. If Henrik knew that he'd let the guards learn their secret, Hans wouldn't escape with his life.

Besides, he had to at least preserve some semblance of dignity. If Henrik knew of the little "mishap" that had taken place, Hans would never hear the end of it.

Henrik rolled his eyes. "You almost let them escape once before. Why should I believe you didn't do it this time?"

"Tell him the truth!" Hans screeched furiously at Wesley, Josh and Brandon.

"You told us to leave you alone with the prisoners," Wesley lied smoothly. "You said you could handle yourself. Not our fault you got your ass handed to you... again." All three guards were trembling with laughter. Wesley smirked at Hans from behind Henrik's back. _Damn, Hans. That was the best fuck I've ever had. You should_ _impersonate the witch more often._

"Princess Anna is about two-thirds your size, and has the intellectual capacity of a garden snail," Henrik continued, as if Hans hadn't said anything at all. "But this is the umpteenth time you were outsmarted and overpowered by her. Hans, you're a grown man with high ambitions. It is astounding to me how you can keep screwing up the most rudimentary tasks."

"Hans is pretty good at screwing things up. But he's even better at _getting_ screwed," Wesley muttered under his breath. Josh and Brandon covered their mouths to suppress giggles.

"You know what I think?" Henrik hissed, "Letting you in on this little scheme was a big mistake. You've been nothing but a liability since Day One."

Hans' ears were ringing and he was nearly delirious with rage. Anger erupted in his chest, completely drowning out his rational convictions. The immense humiliation he had suffered last night made him especially touchy, and Hans was determined to recoup his pride. He wasn't about to take the blame for something he didn't do.

"You know what _I_ think?" Hans fired back. "I think I'm the King of Arendelle, and you have no right to talk to me that way in _my_ country! In case you haven't noticed, I call the shots around here! Unless you want your big mouth and your two-inch dick to wind up on the guillotine, _shut your fucking mouth_!" Without thinking, Hans spat viciously at Henrik's face.

Henrik shrugged cavalierly and wiped away enormous mass of phlegm that had landed on his cheek. His voice was deathly calm as he spoke.

"Restrain him."

Before Hans could utter a single word of protest, he was dazed by a blow to the side of the head and violently thrown against a wall. He began to struggle ferociously, but it was too late. Wesley, Josh and Brandon swiftly restrained his limbs and pinned him in place.

Nodding in satisfaction, Henrik stretched out his arms and whipped out a dagger that had been tucked in his belt. "On the contrary, little brother, you'll see that I am still very much in charge around here."

Henrik pointed the dagger straight at Hans' lips. "I think it's high time you were reminded of your place, Hansie. Maybe I should cut that impudent tongue right out of your mouth. After all, I've just about had it with your backtalk and insubordination."

After a few tense seconds, Henrik resumed his monologue. He lowered his arm and pointed the dagger at Hans' crotch. "But I have an even better idea. How about I slice off those crown jewels? You're such a pathetic excuse for a man, you have no need for them anyways."

The older Westergard paused to relish in the effects of those words. Hans' eyes grew wide with fear, and his jaw clenched.

Henrik tossed the dagger into the air and grabbed its jeweled handle. "But I'm a kind and merciful brother. I'll let you off with a warning." Henrik raised his dagger and dragged its steely edge slowly across the younger man's cheek, unleashing a trickle of blood. Hans grimaced and his eyes watered, but not a sound escaped his lips.

On cue, the three guards released Hans from their grip. Henrik licked the blood off his dagger and flashed a chilling smile. "You don't want me as your enemy, Hans. Never forget that."

Hans said nothing as he continued staring at the floor, with eyes full of resentment and his lips twisted in a most childish pout. Pride and anger simmered beneath his tranquil exterior, as he was brutally humiliated for the umpteenth time in a three-day period.

The witch was going to pay.

* * *

"Elsa, why are you doing this to yourself?" Brian groaned as he watched Elsa bury herself in a mound of formidable-looking texts. "Going through the proper channels to have those Westergards removed from Arendelle could take months!"

"Look at the big picture," Elsa spoke patiently, momentarily pausing from her research. "The International Family Law, as it currently stands, leaves too much room for abuse. That is the crux of the issue. If we really want to solve the problem, then this very stupid and antiquated bit of legislation must be overturned."

Brian huffed impatiently. "It would take less than a minute to freeze Hans and Henrik, and send those two idiots straight to the bottom of the ocean."

"It would," she agreed. "But how sustainable is that solution? How many more people might be inspired by their efforts, and attempt the same thing? How many millions of lying, cheating opportunists might think to use marriage as a tool for stealing titles and inheritances? This isn't a personal war against the Westergards, to be fought in an isolated context. This is a matter of principle. Don't be sidetracked by the pursuit of instant gratification."

Brian couldn't argue with that. Nor could he help smiling as his eyes rested upon the gentle curves of Elsa's fingers wrapped around the fountain pen, or the candlelight glowing in her eyes. He could see—and almost feel—the palpable determination resonating in her being as she scoured every last book and document in the library, digging for facts and precedents. Anything to help her case as she meticulously scripted out a lengthy dissertation, arguing to have the Family Law overturned.

She was so beautiful. But her true beauty lay within. Many people who had suffered injustice in their early years became bitter and vengeful. It was an unfortunate fact that in almost every society throughout history, the people or demographic most responsible for perpetuating human rights abuses were the former victims themselves.

But not Elsa. Every battle she took upon her shoulders, every cause she championed, was undertaken with the goal of creating a better world for those who came after her. Making sure no one else would ever have to endure the horrors she had gone through.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Brian finally managed. "Why hasn't anyone ever thought of this before?"

"Come again?"

"Why didn't anyone consider the possible ramifications of this very stupid law in the hundreds of years since it was implemented? Liars and thieves have been around since the beginning of time. Why didn't anyone ever anticipate that someone like Hans might come along?" Brian chose his next words carefully, knowing that he was treading into a sensitive topic. "Why didn't you save yourself from him first?"

The silence was deafening. Elsa felt her stomach knot as her final defenses crumbled away, and her vulnerabilities came to light. It was easy to say that her marriage to Hans was an absolute political necessity. It was a Queen's duty to avoid war no matter the personal cost to herself. That was the "correct" answer to Brian's question. But there was more. There was a far more subtle and pernicious reason why she had resigned so readily to that fate.

"Because I wasn't worth it," she mumbled. Her head hung low and she very conspicuously avoided all eye contact.

"What?" The young physician managed to sputter. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean, you aren't worth it?"

Elsa blinked back tears. "What good would it do?" she whispered. "Even if I saved myself from marrying Hans, what purpose would that serve in the long run? I get rid of Hans, and a dozen more men just like him would pop up in his place. Face it—no one is foolish enough to love the Snow Queen. There's nothing attractive about me besides my position. That's the only reason why anyone would ever want to marry me in the first place."

The blonde fought to compose herself. "Only a monster would ever want to marry me, because I have no likeable attributes besides that shiny piece of metal on my head. Maybe because I'm a monster too…" Elsa tried to continue, but her breath hitched in her throat and she could not utter another sound.

Doctor Helmholtz wrapped his arms around her slender body, and pulled her close to his chest. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The doctor rubbed soothing circles into her back with the heel of his hand. When she had calmed down sufficiently, he spoke. "Elsa, you are a jewel beyond compare. Believe me when I say that you are the most perfect, most beautiful thing that God ever dared create. But even that could never compare to the beauty right here." He laid a hand over her heart, and felt it beat with a rhythm and pulse that was as human as could be.

Brian had seen Elsa and Anna's letter to their prospective children. He had read that heartfelt promise of a bright future, full of love and joy. Though Elsa was deeply convinced that no man could ever love her, her heart longed for a child. And no one would make a better mother than Elsa.

He twirled a lock of wispy blonde hair around his finger. "Don't depreciate yourself, Elsa. Don't sell yourself short. You are so much more than a prize to be won by some greedy, chauvinistic pig aspiring for kingship. Somewhere on this earth is the man who will one day win the privilege of being your one true love. He will go down in history as the luckiest man to ever live."

"You really think so?" she ventured timidly.

Brian pulled her closer to him. "I know so. Somewhere out there is a man who's dying for a chance to love you. Not your title, but you. But first you must learn to love yourself."

The words began to tumble out before Elsa even realized what she was saying. "I lov—" She quickly caught herself before she could blurt those three unspeakable words. That was a threshold she dared not cross. An unfamiliar new territory into which she dared not tread. A most implausible fantasy for which she dared not aspire. Suddenly, her palms became sweaty and her face flushed with warmth. A strange fluttering sensation erupted in her lower abdomen, almost causing her entire body to spasm.

But she had to say something. Elsa was practically beaming as she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. Her cheeks were a delicate rosy hue. "I really, really like you Brian."

It wasn't quite the same thing, but it was a start.

* * *

Henrik flicked his wrist and sent his dagger spiraling across the room, until it thudded into the wall. "Hans, you are an absolute disgrace to the Westergard name. So far, you have not succeeded at a single one of your assignments. And now the hostages have escaped. The witch could be onto us any moment now. It's time we take things to the next level."

"Huh? What did you say?" Brooding in his rage and resentment and unquenchable thirst for revenge, Hans was not paying attention.

"Have you forgotten I still have this?" Henrik reached into his cloak to retrieve a large, sturdy-looking flask the size of a wine bottle. A human skull with snakes crawling out the eye sockets was engraved into the glass.

Formula XIV.

"Never fret, little brother. We still have one last trick up our sleeve. And I mean that quite literally."

The King of the Southern Isles grinned as he pressed the strange insignia gently against the matching image branded onto Hans' forearm. The cork came loose with a loud pop. Thick swirls of ghostly green fumes begin snaking out the mouth of the bottle, proliferating through the cool night air. The wisps of emerald smoke danced across the inky black sky, as graceful and innocent as Northern lights.

But nothing could be further from reality. The mysterious fumes spread out across the slumbering kingdom, strangling the citizens in its deathly grip.

Not a soul was awakened by the surreptitious curse that just had befallen them. Everyone continued to sleep peacefully through the night. But in the morning, a great cry of anguish and devastation would reverberate throughout the entire land.

Henrik glanced at his pocket calendar. "One week, Hans. By sunrise on the Winter Solstice, one-third of Arendelle will perish under the most horrible, debilitating disease. The only cure to Formula XIV is a potion made of fourteen infant hearts. Seven boys and seven girls. The witch might figure that out; she's pretty clever. But even then, she'll be too much of a pussy to do it."

"What about Brian?" Hans suddenly asked. "He's the royal physician and a Nobel laureate. Surely he'll be able to—"

"Lard Butt is an even bigger pussy." Henrik clicked his tongue condescendingly. "And besides, science bows to magic."

Hans quickly caught on. "But you and I have no qualms about obtaining fourteen infant hearts. So we'll be the heroes who save Arendelle from destruction, while Frosty is utterly powerless!"

"I like the way you think, little brother!" Henrik chuckled.

The three guards were now craning their necks for a better look. "Your Majesty, what on earth was that?"

Henrik puffed out his chest proudly. "I just unleashed a deadly plague upon the whole kingdom. Look out the window, gentlemen. One out of every three of those stupid, oblivious peasants is dead meat."

The elder Westergard popped open a wooden chest full of champagne bottles. "Let's have a drink to our victory. Thanks to us, one-third of Arendelle will die by next week. And guess who will be taking the blame?"

 **Has the day of the Great Revolution finally arrived? Is the Elsa-ocracy about to be overthrown?**


	21. Formula XIV

**I'm so sorry about the slower updates. Graduate school is pretty time-consuming, and I'm also working part-time. But I will try my hardest to update once a week, especially as we're getting to the "good part!"**

 **Warning: This chapter is okay aside from a bit of profanity. But the next few chapters are gonna be pretty dark. If you thought Playing Dirty was brutal… well you're in for a treat :)**

 **Chapter 21:**

Matthias the stable boy cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, peering through the darkness to scan his vicinity. No one was around, save for some unseen owls that hooted softly in the night. He darted out from his hiding place behind a toolshed, and scurried over to duck behind a clump of bushes.

For the past several weeks, the blond teenager must have overheard hundreds of gossipers in the town square, spilling virulent words about Elsa. She was denounced as a "liar and a traitor" for closing the gates again. Someone else accused her of threatening children with death and imprisonment if they dared call her "Frosty." Several other people conversed about how unbelievably rude and abusive she had been the last time they saw her. There was also a very pervasive rumor that Elsa had sent palace guards on multiple occasions to vandalize stores and steal jewelry. People's faces contorted in resentful scowls as they exchanged quiet but fierce words, denouncing the Snow Queen's wicked ways.

Matthias had no idea how these rumors had sprung into existence. But there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty. The Southern Isles entourage had to be the guilty ones. Their timing was simply impeccable. Until Hans and Henrik showed up in Arendelle, no one ever thought ill of Elsa.

So to clear her name, he was going to prove that Hans and Henrik had stolen the jewelry.

The fourteen-year-old stable boy tilted back his head. Hans' window must have been fifty feet above the ground. But a row of curved steel bars lined the bottom edge of the window, creating an austere-looking flowerbed. The perfect place for a grappling hook. The boy's muscles tensed as he clutched a coil of rope in his fist. Knots had been tied in the rope at regular intervals of two feet. A large metal hook dangled from one end, as strong and proud as an eagle's talons.

Matthias breathed a silent prayer as he took aim and released his projectile. The steely contraption caught a stray beam of moonlight as it arced through the air, before bouncing off the castle wall and dropping to the ground. The boy raced forward to retrieve his weapon.

After nearly a dozen attempts, the hook coiled itself snugly around one of the steel beams. He had done it! Matthias seized the rope and began to climb.

Hans' room was unoccupied and apparently devoid of any suspicious artifacts. But Matthias was convinced that he would find something to vindicate Elsa, if he searched hard enough. The boy began haphazardly flinging open drawers left and right. He had to act quickly, while the darkness of night shrouded his clandestine operation. Besides, Hans could return at any moment.

A faint pinprick of fluorescent green caught his eye. Distracted, Matthias abandoned his search and reached towards the strange apparition. His fingers found a wooden cork, similar in size and composition to those found in wine bottles. But tiny traces of acid-green residue were crusted on the base of the cork, almost seeming to sparkle in the moonlight. _That's odd. Who ever heard of wine that glows in the dark—_

"What are you doing here, you little thief?"

Matthias stood petrified as a harsh, angry voice interrupted the silence. Hans stood framed in the doorway, wearing a black cloak and a murderous glint in his eyes. Before the stable boy could break free from his catatonic trance, Hans marched forward until they stood inches apart. The thirteenth Prince glowered menacingly down at the cheeky young lad.

"I have no idea why you're here, or what you're trying to accomplish," Matthias prattled breathlessly. "But you won't get away with it."

Hans laughed disdainfully. "I'm here because I am the King of Arendelle. This is my home and my kingdom. Consider yourself lucky I haven't put you in the dungeons for encroaching upon my personal quarters. Now beat it, peasant."

"You'll never be the king of anything! Arendelle will always belong to Elsa!" The stable boy fired back, standing his ground.

Hans clicked his tongue. "In case you haven't noticed, Elsa has been nothing but abusive and tyrannical towards her so-called loyal subjects. This kingdom needs a proper ruler, and not a monster like her. And I'm just the guy to do it."

"Elsa's not a monster… _you are_! You think you're so tough, but all you ever do is kiss up to Henrik and all your other so-called friends. If you love Henrik so much, why don't you marry him?" Without thinking, Matthias seized a flower pot sitting on the window sill, and flung two fistfuls of dirt into Hans' face.

Hans' eyes blazed with anger as his pride was wounded and his fraudulence exposed. "You son of a bitch! Take that back!" With herculean speed and strength, Hans lunged forward and wrapped both hands around the stable boy's throat. "I'll kill you!"

Matthias gasped for air and clawed desperately against Hans' fingers, but the thirteenth Prince was far too strong. Soon his head was beginning to spin and his vision was blurring. In a burst of adrenaline-fueled desperation, he lashed out and managed to score a lucky punch to Hans' jaw. The auburn-haired man temporarily loosened his grip. Matthias sprinted for the door, but Hans quickly apprehended him. He twisted the child's arms painfully behind his back, and began slamming his head against a bookshelf.

"You're dead, you little punk! You hear me? Nobody fucks with King Hans of Arendelle!"

But before Hans could carry out his threat, Matthias heard a rapid beat of footsteps in the hallway and felt an icy breeze. Suddenly, his wrists were liberated from the strangulatory grip. The boy whirled around just in time to see Hans sailing across the room and knocked senseless as he collided against the closet door.

Elsa quickly knelt down and helped him to his feet. "Matthias! Are you all right?" The teenager nodded gratefully. His eyes still shone with resentment as they fixated upon the thirteenth Prince lying unconscious on the floor. He retrieved the wooden cork from his pocket, and tossed it onto the carpet next to Hans' prostrate body.

Then he smiled mischievously. "You sure taught that asshole a lesson!" The boy instantly flushed crimson with mortification. He slapped both hands over his mouth, silently cursing his loose lips. What an idiot he was! He had practically cursed at the Queen of Arendelle. "Elsa, I'm sorry! I just… I mean, it slipped out and I—"

Elsa couldn't hold back a chuckle as she patted him jovially on the shoulder. "It's okay, sweetie. You've been through a lot and emotions are high. I promise not to let Kai wash out your mouth with soap. He only does that to myself and Princess Anna."

Soon her childlike cheekiness gave way to a motherly disposition. "Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"

Matthias shook his head and puffed out his chest proudly. "I'm fine." But Elsa was not convinced. He may have been fine for the time being, but she feared for his safety. The stable boy was now a prime target of Hans' hatred. A marked man. How long would it be until the Westergards sought revenge? Elsa would never forgive herself if anything happened to him under her watch. She knew what had to be done.

Elsa guided him to castle parlor and let him take a seat on the red velvet couch. "Matthias," she began gently, crouching down to meet his eyes. "You've been such a good worker and a pleasure to have around. But I'm afraid the castle isn't a safe place, while Hans is still here. Maybe it's best you take a little bit of time off. I promise to come back for you once this is all over."

Two guards appeared in the doorway, coughing slightly to make their presence known. "The carriage is ready, ma'am."

As Matthias clambered into the carriage that would carry him home and out of the reach of Hans' cold eyes and vindictive heart, Elsa laid a pouch full of gold pieces in his lap. Enough to last six months. The boy smiled gratefully and reached out to shake her hand. "Thank you, Elsa. For all you've done for me."

She rumpled his hair affectionately. "Thank me by taking care of yourself."

The carriage rolled to life and the hoofbeats slowly died off in the distance. Elsa reached into her pocket to retrieve a most peculiar little object. The bottle cork that had been found in Hans' room. The slightest traces of pale green residue were embedded in the porous wood, like infinitesimal dots of starlight. The color and consistency of this mysterious substance seemed eerily reminiscent of that little vial she had found the other day.

And when the duo exchanged their good-byes and parted ways in the courtyard, Elsa could've sworn she saw a rash developing on the boy's fingers.

* * *

Elsa massaged her aching knuckles and rubbed her exhausted eyes, as she continued toiling through the wee hours of the morning. She had spent awake through the night, poring her way through stacks of legal books and documents. Her fingers were blistered and nearly worn to the bone, as she continued to painstakingly script out the twentieth page of a lengthy, eloquent dissertation _._ Making her case against the Family Law. Making sure the rhetoric was compelling and the logic ironclad.

 _It has to be done,_ Elsa reminded herself for the millionth time. _And it should have been done a long time ago. It's time to relegate this nonsense to the annals of history. I believe God put me through this debacle with Hans, because I was meant to do this. We can never eradicate liars, thieves and opportunists from society, because their inclinations are the very quintessence of human nature. But we can weaken their influence by stripping them of this very powerful weapon._

As the reigning monarch of Arendelle, she held tremendous power over the social and political climate of her dominion. But being Queen wasn't about manipulating laws in order to fulfill her personal wants. Every endeavor must be undertaken for the good of the kingdom. It was a flagrant betrayal of the sacred institution of matrimony that God had put in place—to abuse marriage an instrument of power and greed. To objectify fellow human beings into mere pawns in a game.

Elsa wanted to make sure no one would ever have to go through what she did with Hans. She was going to overturn the Family Law if it was the last thing she ever did.

The silence soon became suffocating and uncomfortable. Elsa was feeling lonely.

But the physical loneliness paled in comparison to the overwhelming emotional loneliness. Here she was once again, alone and ambivalent, fighting a battle she wasn't sure she could win.

How she longed for Anna to be back by her side! To hear that cheerful voice fill the castle with music and laughter, and see those bright turquoise eyes glowing with affection.

Elsa blinked back nostalgic tears as she twirled had hands to create two life-sized ice sculptures. One of Anna, and one of Kristoff. The blonde gazed longingly at the two smiling yet lifeless faces. What wouldn't she give for all of them to be together again, as a family? If she tried hard enough, could her mind conjure up those blissful feelings and fond remembrances of their time together? Could she convince herself that she wasn't alone?

This was no time for sentimentality. She had a very important task to complete—one whose significance would reverberate through the chasms of history for generations to come. Every moment spent dwelling on personal matters was time she could instead spend on fighting Hans and Henrik. Elsa walked over to each of the ice statues and planted a little kiss on each one. Then she immediately got back to work.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by a shrill knock on the door. Who could possibly be disturbing her at this hour? The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and streaks of pink had only begun to propagate themselves across the indigo sky. No one should be awake so early in the morning.

It was Kai. His face was flushed and his chest was heaving. "Elsa, come quickly," he wheezed. "It's terrible."

His incoherent speech and frantic demeanor was quite alarming. "What is it?" Elsa demanded.

Kai hunched over to catch his breath. "This is an unmitigated disaster," he managed to gasp. "Thousands are dying from a strange illness that appeared out of nowhere. We must find Doctor Helmholtz at once."

Elsa immediately rose to her feet and with all the strength and authority required of her office. A gust of frigid air billowed in her wake as Elsa strode down the hallway. The kingdom was in danger. Gone was the sweet, playful girl with a pronounced childish streak beneath that veneer of propriety. It was time to adopt the stern, sovereign façade that the circumstances required. Someday, when the storm had passed and peace was restored, Frosty would reappear. But today was not the day.

* * *

There were no adequate words for the sheer magnitude of trepidation and despair that enveloped the entire kingdom. Last night, everyone was healthy and strong. There was zero indication that anything was amiss. But today, one-third of Arendelle's population was perishing under a most debilitating illness of unknown origins. No one understood when or how they had been so cruelly violated by that wretched plague.

Every hospital ward and makeshift emergency shelter was overcrowded with dying patients and panicked visitors. Churches were packed with frantic people demanding explanations where none could be found. The streets were lined with empty stores and dark windows. Classrooms were filled with empty desks, cold seats, and apprehensive survivors wondering "Am I next?"

A society built upon mutual respect and trust had been completely torn asunder. Nobody felt safe anymore.

Elsa hurried to meet Doctor Helmholtz at the National Laboratory. "Have you found anything?" Elsa whispered when the physician emerged from the examination room wearing a white coat and a fresh layer of sweat.

Brian gritted his teeth and said nothing for few seconds, as he grappled for words. Indeed, he had managed to extract some information about the mysterious plague. But what he discovered had left him utterly perplexed, and quite disheartened.

"I did," he finally managed. "But I'm afraid these new developments haven't led us any closer to a diagnosis, let alone a cure. I've taken almost a hundred blood and urine samples, searching for foreign antigens. Anything not typically found in the human body. There was one thing was found in all of the patients."

"What did you find?" Elsa pressed.

"I'm not sure," Brian admitted. "But all I can say is this. This substance, whatever it is, is completely beyond the realms of anything we know. I've done a careful analysis of all its chemical properties, and it defies every law of natural science. There is no element on earth that exhibits such behavior."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Brian nodded grimly. "No germs or chemical toxin has the ability to spread this rapidly. Nobody was sick eight hours ago. But right now, one-third of the kingdom is puking their intestines out and foaming at the mouth. It's almost like magic. Very dark magic."

Neither of them spoke for several minutes, as they continued staring uneasily at the floor. Suddenly, realization struck Elsa like a bolt of lightning. "Magic," she whispered. "Dark magic..."

Then her voice became far more resolute and assertive. "Hans and Henrik!" Elsa was almost screaming with rage and disgust. "I'll bet it was them!"

 **Stay tuned for more!**


	22. Doctor Elsa

**Warning: Dark stuff begins here!**

 **Also, there are some religious references in this chapter. I'm not trying to preach at or convert anyone. Since this is 18** **th** **century Europe and Arendelle is clearly a Christian nation, I felt it was fitting. So please don't take it personally!**

 **These next few chapters will be a little similar to Playing Dirty, but with one HUGE difference. That will be made clear in the next Chapter** **:)**

 **Chapter 22:**

"Were there any further developments?" Elsa pressed for the umpteenth time. "Anything at all?" She knew her questions were perfunctory at best, and were probably beginning to annoy Brian. But she simply couldn't restrain herself. One-third of Arendelle had been stricken with a most painful and debilitating epidemic of completely unknown origins. Everyone was on pins and needles.

Doctor Helmholtz spoke confidently. "If Hans and Henrik are truly the ones responsible, then I've found something very incriminating." He took Elsa by the hand and led her upstairs. Brian pushed open a heavy oaken door engraved with the royal seal of Arendelle. Elsa recognized it as the spare bedroom where she had found the strange little vial full of green fluid.

"Is this the room where the stable boy found the mysterious vial? Right here on this table?" Elsa nodded to confirm. Indeed, this was the location.

The royal physician beckoned her closer. "Take a look."

The sleek wooden surface of the dressing table was marred with what appeared to be a large acid spill. The paint was peeling and the veneer corroded. Jagged crevices were embedded deep into the wood, propagating over the entire surface to create a spongy spiderweb. An annulus-shaped burn mark, equal in diameter to the little vial, could clearly be seen.

Elsa lapsed into silent contemplation, piecing together tidbits of facts and recollections. "There were bits of green sediment on a bottle cork that Matthias found in Hans' bedroom," she deduced slowly. "When I last saw the young man, I could've sworn there were boils on his hand.

"Don't forget the flowers planted along Hans' windowsill," Brian added. "They'd been fine for weeks. But just yesterday, they were all withered."

The room suddenly became ominously cold. "Hans and Henrik! The nerve of those two! Some people must exist only to make everyone else miserable!"

Brian sighed ruefully to himself. No one knew the sheer depths of Westergard wickedness better than he and Elsa did. Indeed, some people must exist only to wreak havoc in the lives of others. No one understood how anyone could possibly be so devoid of empathy. How any human could have a soul so putrid and rotten.

"This disease is highly contagious," Brian interjected. "We've taken every precaution, but it's no use." Suddenly, Brian felt himself retrogressing back into that primal state of helplessness, from which he'd fought tooth and nail to emerge. Once again, he felt utterly powerless and disenfranchised against the Westergards. Once again, he could do nothing but watch helplessly as yet another one of Henrik's evil schemes unfolded before his very eyes. _That evil son of a bitch. I bet even Satan bows to Henrik._

The young physician shook his head dejectedly. "Most of the medical staff has fallen ill, and I've had several close calls as well. I'm afraid we cannot continue our investigation."

Elsa's slender body suddenly tensed with determination. "But I can."

"What do you mean?" Brian raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Elsa patiently explained. "Brian, I am the only person in all of Arendelle who is completely impervious to this disease. I am able to come in contact with the patients without being infected."

Then she perked up in excitement. "The trolls! I'm sure they can help us! Grand Pabbie must have some idea what Henrik did."

* * *

Thousands of bedridden patients lay in a makeshift emergency ward. Their bodies were wracked with chills and fevers, streaming with sweat, growing emaciated as the wicked plague devoured their flesh and spirit.

Elsa's bright blue eyes scanned across the great multitude that filled the room. Each was a precious soul dearly cherished by the Lord. These were not her subjects. They were her family, her kinsmen. A special conglomeration of equally loved and equally valued human beings, whom God had assigned to live together. To love and teach one other. To work side-by-side to build a safe, loving, and wholesome community.

To weather this storm, and prove to the world that love and resilience would always triumph over greed and treachery. At least that's what she hoped.

A single tear slid down Elsa's cheek as her back hit the wall and she slid to the floor. Her heart broke with compassion and tenderness. The ubiquitous suffering that surrounded her felt like a dagger through the chest. How she wished she could do something to alleviate their pain! How guilty she felt for being insusceptible to the wretched disease that was claiming so many lives!

"Hello?" a soft, feeble voice made Elsa stop dead in her tracks. The young monarch slowly turned around. A very sickly child stared back at her with pleading, tearful eyes. She was immediately by his side.

There was great sadness and yearning in his countenance. "Frosty, I'm sorry we were so annoying. I'm sorry you had to be mean. Can you forgive me before I die?"

 _The poor child,_ Elsa thought. _He must be completely delirious with pain. I haven't the slightest idea what he means by that._ She knelt by his bedside and spoke in a soft, comforting tone. "There is nothing to forgive, sweetheart. You've done nothing wrong. None of this is your fault."

The child's tiny body trembled violently as he was overtaken by a fit of hacking, wheezing coughs. His once-rosy cheeks were pale and emaciated in a way that no child should ever look. Those lustrous blue eyes were now dull with the bottomless cynicism of a once-innocent creature, that had been broken and beaten beyond healing.

His next words brought tears to her eyes. "Will I go to heaven when I die?" he managed to croak.

The little boy was clearly expecting an answer. But Elsa was no good with words in these situations. She could talk business all day without breaking a sweat. But nothing could've prepared her to comfort a dying child. "Of course you will, sweetie. The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those with the hearts of children. But by the grace of God and the wonders of modern medicine… you will live a long and happy life before that day comes." Elsa could've slapped herself at how terrible that sounded.

"What if I don't?" the child persisted.

The tears flowed freely down Elsa's cheeks. "Then heaven will have gained a beautiful angel."

The little tot appeared content with this response. He reached slowly for her hand. But as their fingers made contact, a most peculiar sensation resonated through her entire body. For the first time in her life, Elsa felt cold. A shiver ran up the length from her arm, like ice running through her veins.

Color returned to the child's face, and he found the strength to raise his head and smile. "Thanks Frosty, that feels a lot better." Then his eyes slid shut and he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

A man's voice cried out from a few rows down. "Forgive me, Mama!" he sobbed. His voice was raw and scratchy. "What a miserable, wretched man I was! A gambler and alcoholic since my youth! When I had my strength and health, I wasted them upon the most decadent pursuits. Now this is my punishment… to die alone and forsaken, remembered by no one…"

He turned his half-lidded, delirious eyes to meet her. "Are you an angel, miss?"

 _I'm not an angel… I'm a monster,_ Elsa thought. She brushed those thoughts aside and spoke tentatively. "No sir, I am not an angel. But there is something I would like to tell you." Elsa launched into a brief overview of the parable of the Prodigal Son. A beautiful story of reconciliation between a wayward lad and the father he forsook. The foolish youth had descended into the lowest depths of shame and defeat, through the poor choices he had made. But his humble heart and contrite spirit had won him something far more valuable in return. He regained the family he had lost.

"You can never be so far lost, you are beyond the reach of love. But first you must learn to forgive yourself."

The wild, frantic look in his eyes gave way to serenity. Smiling, the man grabbed her hand and held it close to his chest. "You _are_ an angel, miss." From the moment their skin came into contact, his fever began to recede and his erratic breathing began to stabilize. Once again, the same icy shockwave propagated through her hand, chilling the fingers to the bone.

Soon the man had fallen asleep and relinquished his grip, leaving a very bewildered Elsa staring confusedly at her hand. She gingerly flexed her fingers. The cold continued to linger.

Elsa rose to her feet. As much as she longed to stay and comfort these poor dying people, she knew that effusive words and sympathetic intentions weren't going to rid Arendelle of this curse. The blonde spun on her heels and strode for the door with great determination.

* * *

No one knew why, but Elsa was strangely immune to the deadly plague that was sweeping across the land. The citizens of Arendelle were all thoroughly confounded by how their Queen could walk through a veritable minefield of death, disease and decay, and emerge completely unscathed. They figured it must have had something to do with her magic.

But whatever the cause of her mysterious invincibility, Elsa was determined to make the most of it.

The little green vial was clutched tightly in her fist, as Elsa exited the patient ward of the hospital. She had taken great care to make meticulous observations, and recall every symptom down to the most miniscule details. Now she was going to share her findings with Grand Pabbie. The troll elder would help her identify the cause and origin of this illness, and point them towards a solution. Then Brian was going to teach her everything he knew about medicine and epidemiology, so she could administer the cure.

After peace was restored, she would devote her efforts to removing Hans and Henrik from Arendelle once and for all.

Elsa made her way through the village and market, towards the outskirts of the kingdom. All day long, people had been giving her dirty looks behind her back. No matter where she went, reproachful eyes and emphatic whispers relentlessly followed her. At times, it seemed that people were downright hostile towards her. And Elsa had no idea why.

 _This is nothing to be taken personally,_ Elsa reminded herself. _People will always look to their leaders to solve problems. Whether or not that is "fair"_ _or "reasonable"_ is _unimportant. Lives are in danger and trust has been broken. I don't know if I can save these poor souls, but I will move heaven and earth to protect the ones I love… no matter the cost. Just like Anna did for me._

The cool breeze swept refreshingly through Elsa's hair as she rode through the paths of the forest. Her mind wandered back to the first time she had journeyed to meet the trolls. She had been a terrified, guilt-ridden child. With one errant flick of a finger, she had ruined lives and obliterated friendships. Only after thirteen years of indefatigable love and persistence, did those wounds finally begin to heal.

But this time, things would be different. This time, she was not a frightened child but a determined young woman. On a mission to banish the curse of cruelty and selfishness out of her dominion once and for all.

"Hello? Grand Pabbie?" Elsa called out softly as she tumbled into the trolls' lair. She hunched over to catch her breath. "I… I seek your assistance."

A low rumbling sound shook the earth beneath her feet. A dozen or more medium-sized boulders rolled across the mossy ground and revealed themselves to be living beings. Mottled gray ellipsoids with stubby little limbs that protruded from their stony bodies, but unmistakably humanoid faces.

The troll leader pulled Elsa down to meet his eyes. There was terrible sadness, but grim determination in his eyes. "There is strange magic in the land. Terrible, evil, dark magic. The blood of many innocents cry out from the earth. Crying for justice, crying for healing. But alas, their fates are out of my hands."

Elsa's knees buckled and she sank weakly to the moist, mossy ground. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. With every nerve and fiber of her being, she silently pleaded for it not to be true. "You mean… There isn't anything you can do?" she sputtered faintly.

Grand Pabbie took Elsa's hand gently into his own. "My child, I know exactly what Henrik did to set this curse upon the land. I know exactly the nature of this plague, and how it can be cured. But I cannot tell you. The cost of this knowledge is simply too great."

 _No cost is too great. There is nothing you wouldn't sacrifice for the ones you love. My sister taught me that._ The young blonde woman began frantically rummaging through her satchel, flinging her treasures lavishly at the troll's feet. Gold, jewelry, even her scepter and crown. Anything that might change his mind. Elsa pushed the bundle into the troll's stocky arms. "Will this suffice?"

Grand Pabbie gave a low, mirthless chuckle. "Elsa, you misunderstand me. We trolls are always happy to serve the royal family. The reason I cannot tell you, is because the damage to your soul would be too great to bear."

Those words frightened her. But she pressed on in single-minded determination. Elsa drew a deep breath and tried to still the tremor in her voice. "Whatever it will cost me, I will pay."

The troll's face was stubborn and unrelenting, and there was a distinct undercurrent of agitation in his voice. "Elsa, try to understand. If I told you, you would be tainted forever by the dreadful knowledge of what you must do. You would lose your innocence, your peace of mind. I'm only trying to protect you."

" _Protect me_?" Elsa yelped incredulously. "Grand Pabbie, am I still eight years old to you? Do you still see me as a helpless child that needs to be hidden away from the realities of the world, and locked up in a sanctuary of ignorance and denial... so that I don't have to see things that might damage me? Arendelle is in danger! Saving the kingdom is much more important than protecting precious Frosty's delicate psyche! I've already spent most of my life sweeping problems under the rug, and enough is enough!"

Her chest heaved from all her shouting. Soon Elsa calmed down, and when she spoke again her tone was much gentler. "I've learned a lot over the past few years. Sometimes I still can't believe Anna would sacrifice herself for me, even after all that happened. I didn't deserve her love. I really didn't. It may not have been fair or rational that she gave her life for me, but that's what made it love. When you love someone, you never worry about if you're getting the short end of the stick. You never stop to wonder, _Am I being ripped off? Is this worth it?_ "

Elsa's voice voice broke and she had to blink back tears. "Grand Pabbie, I love this kingdom and its people. They are my family just as much as Anna and Kristoff are. I will endure whatever it takes to lift this curse. Even if it leaves me deaf, blind, crippled or dead."

With a heavy heart and tears in his eyes, Grand Pabbie shook his head. "The answer is no, Elsa. You truly are better off not knowing." His stony face crumpled and the tears began to fall. "I'm sorry my child, but Henrik has won."

* * *

"What do you mean, he can't tell you?" Brian shouted, his face white-hot and furious. "Is this another attempt to _protect you_? Because we all know how things worked out the last time you listened to that troll!"

"Brian please, calm down!" Elsa patted him propitiatingly on the shoulder. She grabbed him around the upper arm as he was on the brink of tearing out his hair in frustration. "Maybe he does have a reason for withholding that information. Maybe there are potential consequences that we don't know about."

"I guess," Brian huffed. Slowly, he unclenched his fist and calmed down. "But haven't we all learned that keeping secrets tends to do more harm than good? Couldn't he at least trust you enough to give you all the information, and let you make an educated decision? Does he still think you're a child?"

"I don't know about that," Elsa admitted. "But I do know that Grand Pabbie was wrong about one thing. Henrik has not won. He may have the upper hand right now, but we aren't going down without a fight. It looks like we're going to have to figure this out ourselves."

"And since you are immune," Doctor Helmholtz reminded her, "You are the only person who can even come near the patients. When—and if—we find out what Henrik did, you must be the one to deliver the treatment. Elsa, you have to learn everything there is to know about medicine and human biology in as little time as possible. In the next three days, you must learn how to draw blood, give vaccines, perform stitches, and use every tool and instrument in the entire hospital. And of course, you'll have to learn all the medical jargon and scientific terminology."

Elsa gave a sheepish smile. "It certainly helps that I have the best teacher in the whole world."

Brian threw a playful punch at her shoulder. "And I have the best student. Come along, Doctor Frosty. We've got our work cut out for us."

Without another word, the duo made a rapid beeline for the library. So engrossed she was in her current preoccupation, Elsa was only partially aware of a cold, prickling sensation at her fingertips. The exact same spot where she had made contact with the sick child and the penitent scoundrel. The exact same spot where she had offered them a soothing touch.

In fact, her middle and index fingers were slowly being consumed by a spreading patch of frostbite.

 **Is Grand Pabbie right? Are the Westergard victorious? And why wouldn't he tell Elsa the truth?  
**


	23. Elsa Frostberg Must Die

**Warning: The angst-o-meter is about to go off the chart!**

 **Chapter 23:**

"Elsa, take a break," Brian grunted as he hoisted a heavy stack of medical encyclopedias onto the tabletop. On his other side was a pile of books on alchemy and magic. "You been going at it for three days nonstop. Keep it up, and we'll have to surgically excise your butt from the chair."

Indeed, it had been over seventy-two hours since Elsa had rested from her toils. She'd hardly eaten a bite or slept a wink, as she labored ceaselessly day and night. In the past three days, Elsa learned how to administer vaccines, draw blood, give stitches, and even perform some simple tissue transplants. Under Brian's tutelage and her own meticulous studies, she'd also mapped out the entire human circulatory and lymphatic systems. By all definition, Doctor Helmholtz's crash course in medicine and epidemiology had been a success.

But it was an unfortunate fact that life tends to be a zero-sum game. The great gains she had made would inevitably come at a price. Elsa's new knowledge was obtained at the expense of her health and youthful beauty. Her normally radiant blue eyes had lost their luster, and dark circles took residence beneath her lower eyelids. Elsa's skin was even paler than its typical alabaster hue, and had a bluish tint begotten of fatigue and hunger. Both cheeks were hollow and sunken.

When Brian reached out to touch her trembling hand, her fingers were so emaciated he could feel every contour of bone and every bump of knobby joints beneath her icy skin. His heart ached to see her in such a haggard state. It wasn't fair. The poor girl had made so many sacrifices, given out so much love and goodness, but all she got in return was a broken heart.

Elsa cracked a weary smile. "I'm okay, Brian." She pushed herself upright and doused her face with a handful of ice. "But I appreciate your concern. That's very sweet of you."

 _Not as sweet as you, Brian thought dreamily._ He leaned over to rummage through another shelf of books.

"Brian, what's that on your arm?" Elsa suddenly asked.

Brian gulped nervously. His sleeve had hitched upwards when he reached over to grab Volume Seven of _Alchemy and Dark Magic Through the Ages_ , revealing the tattoo on his forearm. A white ram mounted on an indigo-blue shield, with the words "Never Forget" scripted underneath. A shameful relic of the past he'd so desperately tried to run from. An eternal reminder of the day he lost the only life he'd ever known.

"Nothing!" Brian blurted. He vigorously smoothed out his sleeve.

Elsa eyed him curiously. "Brian, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," The doctor was visibly frazzled. "It's just a tattoo."

"I'm not judging you," Elsa patiently explained. "People have tattoos for all sorts of reasons."

When Brian said nothing, she continued, "That is the crest of the Bowhead Islands, isn't it?"

For several tense minutes, all was silent as Brian stared uneasily at the far wall, fidgeting his hands nervously. He could feel Elsa's bright blue eyes resting on his face. He dared not meet her gaze, lest she see the demons within. His heart palpitated wildly, betraying his emotional state. Shouting from the mountaintops, for all the world to hear, just how deep and how vast his wretchedness truly was.

"What do you know about the Bowhead Islands?" he inquired in a slow, careful, wary tone of voice.

"Well," Elsa began. "It was a very small island country, a little north of Denmark, with a population of nine or ten thousand. Thirteen years ago, the Southern Isles declared war on them, after Prince Justin was allegedly murdered by the son of a local nobleman. They were demolished after one week of fighting. That was just a few months after Henrik became King."

"What's your take on that?" Brian's words tumbled out fast and agitated.

"I was only ten, almost eleven when it happened. I spent all my time in my room, and Mama and Papa were very careful about what they told me. But I overheard Papa discussing it. He didn't believe Henrik's story." As Elsa spoke these words, Brian visibly relaxed and his distressed demeanor began to fade.

"Papa was convinced Henrik was lying about avenging his brother. He considered sending troops to defend them. But the council persuaded him that it wasn't worth our resources and the lives of our men, to defend a country that was of little economic importance to Arendelle. Especially since most people were sold on Henrik's version of events."

Brian began shaking and sweating. "How about now? What do _you_ think really happened with Prince Justin?" he stammered.

"I don't know," Elsa admitted. "But I doubt he was an innocent victim. Papa always said that the Southern Isles princes were a most unscrupulous bunch, and I've yet to see any evidence to the contrary. If Justin got killed, he most likely started the fight or attacked the other person first."

Brian was on the verge of hyperventilation. "Did your father ever tell you anything about the person who killed Justin?"

Elsa paused to reminisce. "He was about your age, and also a university student. No one ever saw him again after the war. Some people think he died. Some people think he was taken to the Southern Isles as a prisoner. But nobody knows what happened to him. They only know what Henrik wants them to know."

The royal physician sighed inwardly. It was time to come clean. He couldn't contain his terrible secret for any longer, as it was corroding his soul and wreaking havoc on his emotional homeostasis. Besides, he owed it to Elsa to tell her the truth. She deserved so much better than anything he could ever be. And it was high time she knew.

"I think he was _exactly_ my age." Brian's voice was slow and rueful, as he continued avoiding her eyes. "I think he changed his name and appearance, then fled the country after killing Justin in order to save his own skin. I think he has been living in denial and self-hatred for the past thirteen years. And I _know_ that every time he looks into a mirror, he sees a coward and an impostor."

Elsa furrowed her brow in confusion. "Brian, what on earth are you talking about?"

Brian retrieved a small bottle of wash, and massaged the gooey excretion into his own hair. The blond color faded away, revealing a head full of chestnut brown locks. "I wasn't always Brian. I was born Braxton James Helmholtz, son of Lord Stephen Patrick Helmholtz and Lady Margaret Helen Arrhenius. And I'm the foolish young man who got his kingdom destroyed in a moment of thoughtless anger."

* * *

"You can't be," Elsa's voice was faint with shock and disbelief. She was only vaguely aware of her surroundings devolving into a miasma of hazy colors and surreal images. Her mind was reeling in disarray as it struggled to make sense of this utterly implausible, absurd, and facetious revelation. _I must be delusional with fatigue. I'm hearing things. Or perhaps I'm dreaming._

But it wasn't a dream. Elsa propped her head up and opened her eyes, and was confronted with the truth.

"I am," Brian sadly confessed. "My father was a member of the Southern Isles royal council. He was appointed governor of the Bowhead Islands, and traveled frequently between the two nations. I practically grew up with the Westergard brothers. They bullied me relentlessly as a child, and I just took it lying down. That much you already know."

Elsa looked intrigued, but made no motion to interrupt. Brian continued his story. "During my years at college, I started to gain confidence and self-respect. I thought I could change the way people viewed me. I thought things could be different—that I didn't have to be Lard Butt anymore. But I was wrong."

"Is this why you were so upset whenever Hans mentioned Henrik?" Brian nodded stiffly, with hot angry tears welling in his eyes. How he hated that wicked man! If only the wolves of the North Mountain could rip Henrik to shreds!

"Prince Justin was a guest to my country, but he spent day after day vandalizing public property, bullying children and the elderly. I watched him do it. When he tried to assault my little sister—God rest her soul—I completely lost it.

"You killed him to protect your sister," Elsa said softly. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

The doctor nodded grimly. "A knife through the stomach. Then I fled back to Arendelle, where I'd recently been hired to work under the old royal physician. Your father knew the truth. He couldn't save my country, so he took me in as a refuge." Brian's words were short and clipped.

"Then six months later… well, you know what happened."

As he reminisced upon that fateful moment, one image stood out above the rest. Brian remembered the warm crimson tide cascading over his hands, dripping onto the marble floor. At the time, it was a cathartic, liberating sensation. The steady cataclysm of blood washing away his childhood of pain and victimization, beneath the mighty tides of justice. But the crimson stains did not tell of a triumphant journey, but of a torturous and humiliating defeat.

By picking a fight he could not win, Brian had sunken into depths of wretchedness and lowliness that even Lard Butt could not attain. By attempting to assert himself as a strong and confident person who would not stand for abusive behavior, he had been broken beyond repair. By killing one man, his hands were forever stained with the blood of thousands. The blood of innocent men, women and children whose lives were cruelly extinguished by Brian Helmholtz's misguided attempt at taking a stand.

Brian thought he had been fighting a good fight. But in the end, he was ground into dust.

As the silence lingered, he began picking aimlessly with a scrap of parchment. "Maybe I didn't even do it for my sister. Maybe I only fought with Justin to prove a point. But the only point I managed to prove was that no matter where I go or what I do, I'm forever destined to be a loser. Don't you realize what I've done? Elsa, I got my entire family and kingdom killed."

Elsa took his hands gently into her own. "I heard Papa discussing with his council one night. He said Henrik had his eyes on your resources, and had been looking for a chance to invade for a long time. It had nothing to do with you and Prince Justin. You were only protecting someone you loved, just like I would have done for Anna."

Brian hung his head. "But I gave him the perfect cover-up."

She squeezed his hand and rested her head against his shoulder. "You lost your temper after being pushed to the limits of your tolerance. It was naïve and reckless. But what Henrik did is on him. Nothing justifies that."

When Brian still remained unconvinced, Elsa wrapped an arm around his waist. "Your skills as a physician are unrivalled by anyone on this planet. But your greatest strength is the bottomless compassion you have for those under your care. You know how to heal people inside and out. Brian, you're not just a great doctor. You're a great man. I thank God every night for the chance to be your friend."

Her reassuring words warmed his heart. When Brian revealed his past, he had been expecting her to recoil in horror and disgust. To berate him at length for what he had done. Yet he had been met not with condemnation, but with understanding and open arms. Brian tried to speak, but the words hitched in his throat. He pulled her into a tentative embrace. "Thank you for believing in me, Elsa," he managed to croak.

He was more miserable and broken than he ever dared to believe. Yet he was more accepted and forgiven then he ever dared to hope.

* * *

Brian tossed and turned fitfully. As tired as he was, the events of that evening denied him a moment of peaceful slumber. No matter how hard he tried to dissociate his mind from those bitter recollections, no matter how hard he tried to focus on happier thoughts, he was trapped. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Henrik's face sneering at him in the dark. Henrik's voice cackling in triumph. Henrik's eyes glaring straight through his façade, revealing a heart full of cowardice.

Elsa was right. She always was. For far too long he had been a prisoner of his past. The more he continued to wallow in self-loathing, the more he was allowing Henrik to exert power over him. He would go straight back to being Lard Butt. He would be no different than Hans.

 _I have a choice,_ Brian reminded himself. _We always have a choice, and Hans has made the wrong one. By allowing himself to be a slave to Henrik, he has chosen the path of destruction. That will not be my life. I will fight against that monster with my dying breath. Shoulder to shoulder, I will fight alongside Elsa to rid Arendelle of his curse. That is the legacy I will leave._

With a gust of renewed determination, Brian dove straight into Volume Seven of _Alchemy and Dark Magic Through the Ages._ His eyes plowed meticulously through page after page of archaic vocabulary, pedantic descriptions, and hopelessly convoluted run-on sentences.

Hours of unflagging patience finally paid off. There, on page three hundred ninety-four, was the answer they had been looking for. A neat little paragraph describing a most curious concoction by the name of Formula XIV. A perfect match down to the most infinitesimal detail.

As his eyes scanned over the next few lines of text, Brian felt his stomach drop. He gasped aloud, vigorously rubbing his eyes and blinking furiously, hoping he had been hallucinating. But there was no mistake. The words stood out on the parchment as clear as could be. The plague could be cured only by a potion made of fourteen infant hearts.

 _That's what Grand Pabbie didn't want Elsa to know! That's why he wouldn't tell her! He knew she could never go through with it, so he wanted to spare her the agony of knowing._

Still, Elsa had to know. She had the right to know. Brian scribbled down a few quick notes before leaving his office and making a beeline for the library.

By the time he arrived at his destination, Elsa had fallen asleep at the desk. Her head was buried in a mound of books and notes, and a fountain pen dangled loosely between her fingers. Though her spirit was robust and her heart willing, her body had been pushed to its absolute limits. She had finally succumbed to fatigue.

Elsa looked so serene and peaceful, in stark contrast to the immense turmoil that raged within. He stroked her hair affectionately as he lifted her into his arms and cradled her close against his chest. The curves of her body were soft and delicate, and her alabaster skin glowed radiantly in the silver moonlight. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Carefully, Brian ascended the stairs to her bedchambers. Elsa's hands were deathly frigid, and her fingers stiff and arthritic. Even by her standards, the Snow Queen's body was frighteningly cold. Doctor Helmholtz had to admit he was alarmed, but he didn't want to wake her up. Brian gently laid her down and covered her with the softest, silkiest blankets he could find. Then he placed the book on her nightstand, making sure to mark the correct page.

With his other hand, the doctor reached into his trousers pocket to retrieve a very special gift. A delicate silver necklace encrusted with a sapphire medallion. _It brings out your eyes, snowflake. Consider it an early birthday present. Because you are simply irresistible, even for just two more days_. _If only every day were your birthday._

Brian leaned down and gently pecked her on the forehead. _Sleep in heavenly peace, my sweet angel._ With glowing eyes and heart full of affection, he stroked her cheek one last time before slipping back into the hallway.

Unfortunately, Brian was unaware of two men lurking in a darkened doorway. Out of nowhere, a heavy wooden plank suddenly collided with the back of his head, instantly knocking him senseless. The royal physician crumpled to the floor.

Hans and Henrik beamed as they examined his unconscious form. "Well done, little brother," the older Westergard nodded in smug satisfaction.

Hans' eyes glowed with savage triumph. "What are we waiting for? Let's kill the bastard!" He reached for his dagger.

With lightning speed, Henrik reached out and grabbed him firmly around the wrist. "Not so fast. What's the point of killing Lard Butt, when we can keep him alive and continue having fun with him?"

The King of the Southern Isles signaled to his three loyal soldiers, who had just arrived on scene. "Tie him up and lock him in the toolshed. Then report back to me at once. It's time we had some fun with Frosty too."

* * *

 _The next morning…_

Dawn had broken and Elsa had discovered the heartbreaking truth. She couldn't do it. She _wouldn't_ do it. How could she ever consent to such a barbaric thing? It may have been the most utilitarian option, to prioritize the needs of the many over the needs of the few. But she refused to subscribe to such a dehumanizing philosophy. Who could assign a monetary value or price tag to a precious human life? What right did she have to silence a beating heart that was not her own? _I'll give my own if that's what it takes. Mine is the only life I have the right to sacrifice._

There had to be another way. There had to be some way to resolve this messy debacle, while leaving everyone's humanity intact. Elsa pounded on Brian's office door, with the book clutched tightly in one hand. "Brian, this can't be true! Please, tell me it isn't!"

No response. The hallway remained deathly silent, aside from the hollow reverberations of her frantic knocking and desperate voice. "Brian, please! We have to talk!" Still, her pleas went unanswered.

Politeness be damned, this was an emergency. Elsa forced the door open with a blast of ice, but stopped dead at the sight that greeted her.

The office was completely empty. Every last bit of furniture, tools and decorations had been stripped away. There was no sign that the room had ever been occupied by a living soul. Except for a slip of parchment pinned on the far wall.

With trembling fingers, Elsa unfolded the parchment. Her blood ran cold as her eyes scanned over its message and absorbed its contents.

 _I, Doctor Brian James Helmholtz, hereby resign from my post as Arendelle's royal physician._

"No!" Elsa screamed. Her spare hand instinctively flew to the beautiful sapphire necklace she wore beneath her collar. "This has to be a joke!"

"If it's a joke, then why aren't you laughing?" A haughty voice suddenly drawled. Elsa turned around and saw Henrik lingering in the doorway.

"Go away!" Elsa snapped furiously, her gaze hardening and snow beginning to fall from the ceiling.

"Go away?" Henrik mimicked in a whiny, childish tone. "Well, based on what I'm seeing here, I wouldn't be the first person to _go away_ from this room."

"Where is Brian?" Elsa shrieked. Clouds of snow and ice swirled above her head. "What have you done with him?"

The King of the Southern Isles was thoroughly enjoying himself, as he continued mocking her distressed state. "It looks to me that Lard Butt just packed up all his goods and left. What a pity. He worked so hard to attain this position, and he's giving it all up just like that? Something _really_ bad must have happened. Are you sure you didn't do something to upset him?"

 _Hang on,_ Elsa thought to herself. _Brian WAS pretty upset last night. Maybe Henrik is innocent here.  
_

Henrik leaned over Elsa's shoulder to glance at the note that he and Hans had forged. "Whoa, he really did leave. I don't know what's going on here Frosty, but you must have really—and I mean really—pissed him off! You're not very good at showing people you care about them, are you? First Anna, now Lard Butt. It seems like people just can't wait to get away from you."

 _I knew it!_ Elsa silently berated herself. _What a tactless idiot I was, bringing up his past! I knew I shouldn't have asked about that tattoo, shouldn't have asked all those other questions. Now he's gone!_

Elsa felt a sharp pang of cold in her chest, as she clutched the strip of parchment close to her heart. "Brian, _please_!" she sobbed, icy tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, she actually felt bothered by the cold. But the physical discomfort paled in comparison to the pain in her heart. "I'm sorry! Please, give me one more chance!"

Elsa looked around, as if expecting him to magically reappear. When he didn't, her face contorted and she crumpled up his note. "Fine!" her words exploded hot and angry. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks and soak through her dress. "Go ahead and run! Running and hiding is all you've ever been good at anyways!"

Hans voice suddenly sounded behind her. "The only person who needs to run and hide is you, Frosty." When Elsa could only stare at him in teary-eyed confusion, the thirteenth Prince gave a cavalier shrug and gestured at the balcony. "See for yourself."

Gathered below in the courtyard was a massive crowd of citizens, easily numbering in the thousands. Their faces were taut with anger and they clutched makeshift weapons in their fists. An unintelligible chorus of irate murmurs arose from their throats. A group of guards and soldiers stood at the forefront. Some of them were clearly from the Southern Isles, while others—to Elsa's shock and horror—were donned in the forest green uniform of Arendelle's royal guard!

One of the men thrust an accusatory finger in Elsa's direction. "There she is! There's the witch that struck down our beautiful kingdom with her horrible plague!"

 **Fasten your seatbelts, because we are in for an angsty ride!**


	24. Kill the Witch!

**Happy Halloween!**

 **Thank you for sticking with me! I know this story hasn't been as suspenseful or cliffhanger-y as my previous two, but I thought I'd try something new (e.g. romance) for a change. These next few chapters will be rather suspenseful, however.**

 **Warning: Huge amounts of angst and violence!  
**

 **Chapter 24:**

Hans cleared his throat and stepped forward. His voice was loud and pompous as he spoke for the entire crowd to hear. "Elsa Marie Frostberg, Queen of Arendelle and daughter of the late Adgar. Two years and five months ago this very day, you stood on holy ground and swore a sacred oath to protect and serve this kingdom, and it's people, all the days of your life. You were blessed with great beauty, intelligence, charisma, and above all the unique elemental magic you possess. Yet you have used each of your gifts for selfish purposes. Everything you have done is a flagrant betrayal of that promise you took before God."

Elsa frantically opened her mouth to challenge that colossal misrepresentation of reality. She had never done anything that wasn't to the best interests of the people! But she instantly clammed up as she realized, to her horror, the great multitude of angry eyes and accusatory faces that greeted her. A massive horde of Arendelle citizens, perhaps twenty or thirty thousand or more, were eyeing her with murderous rage. Many of the men were clutching crude weapons in their fists. _What is going on?_

Her question was answered before she could even begin to ask it. Hans continued, "You have treated your subjects like vermin. You sent royal guards to break into stores and steal jewelry. You completely traumatized that poor man and destroyed his livelihood with your outlandish sense of entitlement. After that, you threatened to murder children who made the mistake of being children. In the past, you always permitted the children to address you as Frosty. How do you expect them to adapt seamlessly when you suddenly changed your mind without any prior warning? How much longer are we to put up with your selfish, petty, immature and capriciously malevolent bullying?"

"What?" Elsa managed to yelp. In her frenzied panic and confusion, her regal demeanor was completely lost. "I did no such thing! What are you talking about?"

Hans silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Just a few days ago, you used your black sorcery to wreak disaster upon Arendelle… again. Thanks to you and the vile magic that came from your hands, one-third of the kingdom is perishing under a most debilitating illness."

"I didn't do that— _you did_!" The blonde shrieked furiously. "You and your brother set off this plague with some magic concoction you obtained from some evil alchemist, and now you're trying to pin it on me!"

"Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, Frosty." Henrik clicked his tongue condescendingly. "You say that Hans and I cast this unnatural epidemic down upon Arendelle using _magic_? Last time I checked, you are the only magic-wielder in this land." A roar of approval rang out from the mob of enraged citizens.

"It's no secret that you are completely immune to this disease," Hans continued. "It is a very well-known fact that you have come in close contact with the sick, without contracting the illness. No fewer than seven people have claimed that they were healed when you laid hands on them. Clearly you have quite a bit of power over this mysterious plague. I guess the curse knows its own master."

"I don't know!" Elsa cried out desperately. "I don't know why I'm unaffected, and I wish I knew. But I am not responsible for any of this! If I could, if it were in my power, I would die to lift this curse. I would trade places with—"

Henrik stepped forward. "If you aren't a wicked sorceress trying to destroy Arendelle, then _explain this_!" He tugged vigorously at a canvas sheet to reveal a most chilling apparition. Three life-sized ice sculptures of Anna, Kristoff and Sven. A few days ago, Elsa had crafted them during a late night session in her study. She had been feeling lonely, and created those effigies of her loved ones to fill that aching void in her heart. Unfortunately, she had made them _too_ realistic.

"Those are just ice sculptures!" Elsa sputtered. "Nobody got frozen! My sister and Kristoff are fine!" _Or at least I hope they are._

"Oh yeah?" Hans challenged. "Would you care to enlighten us where the real Anna is? How about Kristoff and his loyal reindeer? I do believe it's been over a month since anyone has seen them around town." A murmur of assent arose from the crowd.

Elsa bit her lip. She truthfully had no idea where her sister and Kristoff were. Brian had purposefully withheld the information for their safety. But if she revealed that, then Brian could get in trouble. Hans and Henrik would know that he set the prisoners free, and the good doctor—wherever he was right now—may not escape with his life. Elsa hung her head. "I don't know," she admitted in a small, tearful voice.

"Did you hear that?" Hans shrieked. "Her beloved sister mysteriously disappears for over a month, and she couldn't care less! Does that make sense? Let me tell you what really happened. The evidence is _right here_!" He gestured vigorously at the ice statues.

"If she would strike down even her own family with her satanic magic, then no one is safe!" Henrik bellowed at the top of his lungs. "The witch must die!"

Instantly, the mob descended on her. Thousands of voices, delirious with anger, screamed for her death.

"Kill the witch! Cut her throat! Spill her blood!"

"Burn her at stake!"

Elsa had hardly had time to process what was going on, when suddenly a flurry of weapons were hurled at her, violently pelting her all over the body. "They're lying! I didn't do any of that!" But her voice was drowned out by the deafening racket. Elsa instinctively raised her hands to summon her powers to life. Her self-preservation instincts screamed for her to fight. Just one blast of ice, and the threat was neutralized. But her nurturing, maternal instinct protested otherwise. She couldn't raise a hand against her own people. Slowly, Elsa lowered her hands and did nothing.

Before long, she was covered with bruises from head to toe, and streaming with blood from dozens of open wounds. Elsa dropped to her knees desperately holding up her arms in a futile attempt to ward off the blows. But the onslaught continued relentlessly. Stones and bricks smashed against her body from all directions. A rake slashed across her back, and a knife sank into her shoulder. Several crossbow bolts whizzed past, nicking her ear. Finally, someone clubbed her solidly in the back of the head, and Elsa descended into silence and nothingness.

* * *

Elsa had no idea how much time had passed, when she finally began to regain consciousness and rejoin the land of the living. Her head still ached terribly and her vision was blurred. With a feeble groan, she forced herself to sit up straight. Elsa could barely see a thing through the darkness of her surroundings, but a cold drafty wind and the faint scent of mildew on stone indicated that she was in the dungeons.

Several disoriented minutes passed by before her eyes finally adjusted to the dim visibility. Elsa lowered her gaze and glanced up and down her own body. Fresh blood was seeping through hundreds of rips and tears in her dress. Her shoes had been lost in the scuffle. A closer glance revealed bruised toenails and bloody crevices etched into the arches of her feet. Elsa leaned back against the wall, and felt a knot the size of a human fist on the back of her head, bulging with ruptured arteries. Fragments of knives and spearheads were intermittently embedded in her flesh. Even the slightest movements proved to be an excruciating exertion. With every breath she took, her muscles contracted and the metal shards burrowed deeper and deeper into her lacerated flesh.

Both hands were locked up in hard metal chains. The cold, abrasive metal had her wrists trapped in a strangulatory grip, bruising and scraping the delicate skin.

A strange chilling sensation jolted her entire body, causing the blonde to shiver. Elsa was genuinely alarmed. Never in her life had she ever felt so cold. Elsa tried to wiggle her toes, but found the joints swollen and stiff. Although the dungeons were dark, she was almost positive she could see dark patches of indigo frostbite on her extremities. The frightened young woman trembled violently and hugged her knees to her chest.

 _What's going on? Why do I feel so cold?_

Suddenly, the door to the cell creaked open. Henrik's smirking face shone in the fiery torchlight. Ghostly shadows danced along the stony walls, illuminated by the orange glow. The King of the Southern Isles slammed the door in his wake and walked forward slowly but assertively, eyeing Elsa like a ravenous wolf.

"Oh Frosty, you look terrible," he jeered. "But then again, isn't that how witches are supposed to look?"

Elsa ignored him. "Save it, Henrik. I know what you and Hans did. I know all about Formula XIV. I'll get to the bottom of this mess if it's the last thing I ever do."

Henrik let out a snort of laughter. "Well done, Frosty. So you've figured us out. I expected that much from you. But where are you gonna get fourteen infant hearts? You and I both know that you're too much of a pussy to do it."

Elsa took a deep breath and gave him her most defiant glare. Unfortunately, in her terribly incapacitated state, she wasn't capable of exuding much power or authority. "I'll give my own if that's what it takes," she sighed. And she meant every word of it.

"Very touching," Henrik sneered. "It may have escaped your notice, but there's a whole kingdom full of angry people out there who want you dead. They'll kill you before you even come close."

Elsa shivered as a gust of cold tore through her body and throbbed painfully in her chest. "You monster…"

Henrik assumed a more mature and courteous demeanor, as he knelt down to her level and laid a hand on her shoulder. Elsa recoiled in disgust as he touched her. "Listen up, Frosty. I'm prepared to offer you a deal. You see, I have no problem getting fourteen infant hearts. I could cure this plague any time. But even more importantly, I can easily clear up this little misunderstanding, and have Hans take the fall. You go free and my idiot brother gets locked up in your place. All I ask in return… is your complete and unconditional loyalty."

"Never!" Elsa declared forcefully. Hell would freeze over before she let this monster of a man use her powers for his nefarious purposes.

Henrik leaned in until he was uncomfortable close to her. "Don't you want your freedom back? Your name cleared? I can make it happen. Come with me, and we will accomplish great things together."

Elsa pushed him back as best she could. "I would rather rot in this cell than let you use my powers!"

"No? You would deny me?" At her stalwart refusal, Henrik's countenance darkened and his diplomatic façade vanished, giving way to anger. "Have it your way, then."

Without another word, he grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her against his body, suffocating her with a forceful kiss. Elsa winced in disgust and struggled desperately to free herself. But in her badly injured state and with both hands incarcerated, she could do little to deter him. Her feeble attempts at escape only escalated Henrik's predatory instincts. Lust and sadism burned in his eyes as he leaned in closer. The eldest Westergard devoured every inch of her face, savoring the taste of cool peppermint and alpine spring water. Dozens of red and burgundy hickies began to blossom on her pale, flawless skin. Finally, when Henrik was finished, he threw her down onto the cot.

"Since Hans couldn't put you in your place, I guess it's up to me."

When Elsa opened her eyes again, Henrik was standing right in front of her with his pants down and his massive erection jutting straight at her face. It was at least ten inches long and thicker than her arm. Elsa cringed and turned away. She had never seen a man's anatomy before.

"Open your eyes, Frosty." Henrik grabbed both sides of her head and whirled her around. "Take a nice, long look at what I'll be fucking you with."

"Stop! Let go of me!" Elsa shrieked. Tears poured down her cheeks as pain and terror completely overwhelmed her. The blonde squirmed vigorously in his grasp.

"Shut up and take it, bitch!" With great vigor and enthusiasm, Henrik tore open her dress and climbed on top of her. He grabbed her breasts and delivered a vicious twist, nearly ripping the succulent mounds off of her chest. A burst of adrenaline-fueled lust surged through his veins, invigorated by her distressed screams and frantic struggling. His rough hands kneaded her hips and thighs, enjoying the luscious curves. How he loved the silken texture of her snowy white skin!

"Help!" she screamed desperately. Snow was falling from the ceiling and frost creeping up the walls. She had never felt so scared and violated in her life. Without thinking, Elsa blurted out the first name that came to mind. "Brian, where are you? Please, help me!"

Henrik roared with laughter. "Yell all you want, witch. He won't be here for you. Get it through your head. He is NEVER coming back! He NEVER wants to see you again!" He delivered a vicious slap across her mouth, splitting her lip against the lower incisors.

Elsa's voice rose dramatically in volume and pitch, as her fear increased by the second. "Brian please, I'm sorry! I love you… _I need you_!"

"You think Lard Butt would ever love a dirty slut like you?" Henrik cackled with delight. He forced a hand between her thighs and thrust forward as hard and deep as he could, penetrating her with two fingers. Blood trickled down his knuckles and dripped onto the sheet. Elsa screamed in agony and bucked her hips, desperately trying to throw him off. "You think anyone would ever believe that the mighty Snow Queen was overpowered and raped in her own castle? Everyone already thinks you murdered one-third of Arendelle. They'll have no problem believing you're a filthy whore who'd fuck anything with a heartbeat."

"No!" Elsa continued to squirm and kick wildly, tears blurring her vision. She could barely string together a coherent sentence, as she choked and sputtered through a wave of hacking sobs. "Brian loves me! I know he does!"

"Believe what you want about Lard Butt. I really don't care," Henrik scoffed. He forced her knees further apart and situated himself between her legs.

Just as he was about to do the unthinkable, a soft pattering of footsteps rang out in the distance, followed by the jingling of keys. Henrik quickly pulled back, swearing profusely under his breath.

"Fuck!" he hissed furiously, scrambling to dress himself. He had certainly not been expecting an interruption. As Henrik hurriedly pulled himself together and strode for the door, he turned to give Elsa some final words. "Just to let you know, witch, you are set to be burnt at stake tomorrow at dawn. You have until then to change your mind. Remember, only I have the power to clear your name." Then he was gone.

* * *

The footsteps came closer and closer. Soon that mysterious someone was at the door, fumbling at the lock. Henrik was right. Everyone wanted her dead. There was not a soul left on earth who cared about her. _This must have been how Anna felt in those years of separation,_ Elsathought miserably. _Alone, forgotten, unloved. At least I know how and why I wound up in this position, while she agonized for thirteen years wondering what she had done wrong._ Tears continued to stream down Elsa's cheeks as she closed her eyes and lay still, wishing she could end her life.

The door creaked open and the mysterious visitor cleared his throat softly. Elsa finally mustered the courage to look. Kai's sweaty face shone in the torchlight. Relief flooded her heart.

"Elsa!" He was immediately by her side. Upon noticing her state of undress, he quickly averted his eyes and threw his jacket over her small, slender body. Then he whipped out a bundle of keys and released her hands from their steely confines.

Elsa smiled gratefully and tugged his overcoat higher over her shoulders. Blood from her many wounds instantly began seeping through the dark green fabric. She tried to keep her composure, but the tears flowed freely. There was no shame in weeping in front of the man who had been there for her since the very beginning. Adgar had placed her in his care when she was only two years old. Kai had kept her company before Anna was born. He was her strength and comfort on that terrible night her childhood came to an end. He heard her cry herself to sleep when Anna finally stopped knocking. When her parents sank to a watery grave. He never left her, and never would.

Like a child, Elsa threw herself into his arms and was gathered in.

"I'm innocent," she pleaded. Her voice was whiny and incoherent through her sobs. "Hans and Henrik are the ones who set off this plague. Something called Formula XIV, that can only be cured with fourteen infant hearts. Brian figured it out. I don't know why I'm immune to it, but they've used that to convince everyone that I'm responsible. I have no idea where all those other accusations against me came from, but I'm innocent. They must have set me up somehow. Kai, please believe me…"

"Of course I believe you, snowflake. I never doubted you for a minute."Kai rumpled her hair affectionately and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I tried, Elsa… I tried to tell them."

"Really?" Elsa sniffed as she buried her face into his shoulder. "Henrik said they'll have me put to death tomorrow morning. Isn't there anything I can do to prove my innocence?"

Kai hugged her back, making sure to be extra gentle. Elsa's skin was deathly cold, even by her standards. She was covered with cuts and bruises from head to toe, and fresh blood continued to trickle down. Both wrists were scraped raw from those ghastly manacles, and the joints of her fingers were swollen and arthritic.

It was so unfair. She didn't deserve any of this. But no matter what arguments he put forth, no matter what evidence he presented, no one was swayed. The entire kingdom was utterly convinced that his precious little snowflake was a wicked witch.

"Elsa," he began gently. "You have to get out of here."

He pushed aside the cot to reveal a hidden trap door underneath. "The castle has many secret passages. Your sister knows them better than anyone, but I know quite a few of them myself."

She stepped forward, but hesitated. "What about the kingdom? How will the plague be cured? If Henrik is allowed to—"

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that right now," Kai interrupted hastily. He gently goaded her forward. "Hurry, Elsa. Before anyone hears us."

As Elsa gingerly descended down into the trap door, Kai gave her a comforting smile. "Don't give up on Brian. I know he'll come back for you."

 **Things are looking pretty bad for Elsa right now! Is there a happy ending in sight? Read on to find out!**


	25. Kill the Witch! (Part 2)

**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Your support is what keeps me motivated.**

 **To my Guest reviewers: I haven't read A Frozen Heart yet, but I'd very much like to! As for Anna and Kristoff, we will be seeing very soon in the next chapter. They will be mentioned in this chapter too. Don't forget, they've been in hiding ever since escaping in Chapter 19.**

 **Author's Note:** **I'm also publishing a set of "alternate ending" chapters. A while back, I PM-ed some of you to ask for opinions on a very controversial idea. Responses were mixed, so I decided to write the alternate ending separately. The link can be found in my profile: s/11595303/1/Love-Never-Fails-Alternate-Ending  
**

 **Warning: violence and profanity. PLEASE give Elsa a BIG hug before reading!**

 **Chapter 25:**

Hans, Henrik and a few Southern Isles guards were crowded into the castle parlor, surrounding a very distressed-looking Kai.

"I'm not going to ask again, you old fool," Henrik's voice was harsh and menacing. "Where has the witch gone? And how did you sneak her out?"

Kai responded through gritted teeth. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

A stinging slap rang out, and Kai toppled over with a groan of pain. A large purple bruise instantly took form on his cheek. The guards sniggered as they watched.

As Kai struggled to stand, Hans punched him viciously in the side of the head, knocking him back down, "Don't play stupid with me, you fat turd. I know what you did. I have my ways of making you talk."

Hans thrust his steel-toed boot into Kai's stomach. The corpulent older man collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe. "You will tell me now! Where is the witch?"

Henrik spoke up, "Your precious Frosty was every bit as stubborn as you. From the very beginning, I promised her great rewards if she would submit to me peacefully. I gave her every chance to surrender. But she didn't. She thought she could resist me. Now look at what's happened to her. She's lost everything she ever stood for."

The guards whistled and whooped in admiration at Henrik's feat. How proud they were to serve under such a strong and mighty King. Not even the witch's phenomenal magic powers or her ironclad popularity could stand in the way of their conquering champion.

Once upon a time, the witch had been ubiquitously loved by her loyal subjects. Praised for her kind heart and wise judgment, and all she had done for the kingdom. Even hailed as the greatest individual to ever bear the crown of Arendelle. But not anymore. Armed with nothing but a scheming mind and a heart full of ruthless ambition, Henrik had felled the mighty Snow Queen. Soon he would have the world bowing before him.

By now Kai was gasping for breath, but his spirit was as robust as ever. He doubled over in a coughing fit, spraying flecks of blood all over the place. "Hell will freeze over before we abandon the proud legacy of our forefathers, and kneel to monsters such as you."

Henrik let out a haughty snort. "That's exactly what Elsa said, before I fucked her into submission!" All the guards roared with laughter.

Then the men became serious again. Hans kicked Kai across the face, getting his full attention. "For the last time, where has Elsa gone? And how did she escape?"

Kai's head was throbbing and he could barely keep his eyes open. But he would not relent. He had been close friends with the late King Adgar, and had faithfully served the royal family for over three decades. No matter what darkness befell the land, his resolve would never quaver. He would fight for Arendelle until his final breath. "I let Elsa out of the dungeons," Kai stated plainly. "And I'm damn proud of it. I have no idea where she went, and even if I did I would _never_ tell you!"

Henrik was fed up with his noncompliance. He nodded curtly at Hans and the guards. "Round up as many volunteers as you can, and go hunt down the witch. She couldn't have gone far, in her condition. Forget about this fat fool. He's not worth our time."

* * *

Brian groaned as he finally regained consciousness and struggled to sit. As his eyes fluttered open, they were instantly inundated with an endless field of pitch black. The royal physician blinked several times, trying to make sense of his environment. Trying to remember what had gone on before.

His head ached and he felt hungry, thirsty, and terribly disoriented. Thick coils of rope were wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles. A greasy strip of cloth from an old potato sack was tied over his mouth, forming a makeshift gag. Brian strained his memory. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his office, poring over books and encyclopedias. He had learned the truth about Formula XIV after a long and painstaking investigation, and was rushing to inform Elsa of his discovery.

Then out of nowhere came a loud crack, and a sharp pain in the back of his head. Everything that happened afterwards was a complete blank.

The scent of fresh soil hung in the air. Brian deduced that he was either in the stables or in a toolshed. He stretched the coils of rope tautly between his wrists, and rubbed them vigorously against the sharp, abrasive iron edge of what seemed to be a horseshoe. He winced as he inadvertently nicked himself on several occasions.

After what felt like an eternity, the ropes were finally loose. Both wrists were scraped raw and very noticeably bruised. But he had done it. He was free.

The doctor groped about blindly in the darkness, until his hands found a pair of gardening scissors. Brian quickly sliced through the ropes tied around his ankles.

Then he pressed his eye against a thin gap in the walls, peering intently. No one was around. Wasting no time, Brian kicked and pounded furiously against the plywood slats, trying to break down the door. After several minutes of bruised knuckles and sawdust-filled breathing, he succeeded at last. The door splintered and Brian tumbled out into the light of day.

The doctor stood up straight, cracked his knuckles and flexed his stiff cramping legs to restore circulation. If only Elsa were here to soothe his aching muscles with her beautiful, magnificent powers. If only Elsa were here to—

 _Elsa!_ How was she taking the news regarding Formula XIV? Where was she? Did the Westergards hurt her? Did she miss him?

His questions were answered before he could perseverate further upon them. The soft clip-clopping of footsteps rang out in the distance, creating a most ostentatious rhythm. Henrik was making his way across the courtyard in long, purposeful strides. "Well, will you look at what just crawled out of the sewer?"

Brian ignored him. "Where is Elsa? What have you done with her?"

The King of the Southern Isles put on his most repulsive smirk. "Frosty and I have been getting better acquainted with each other, that's all. In other words, Frosty thought she could say no to me, and I respectfully disagreed. I fucked the witch even harder than I fucked your whole kingdom thirteen years ago."

Brian ground his teeth in fury as he absorbed these words. He seized a rake from the toolshed and clutched it tightly in his fists, both hands trembling with indignation. It took every ounce of willpower to restrain himself from rushing forward and tearing that smug, malevolent face into shreds.

"You son of a bitch!" The royal physician was so enraged, he could hardly speak. A lifetime of hatred against Henrik was pounding in his veins. "How could you?"

Henrik continued to smirk. "Why do you care? You're such a pussy, you'd never get laid anyways. Silly Lard Butt. What makes you think that gorgeous, perfect Frosty would ever want a loser like you? The witch is looking for a _real_ man to be her King. You think she'll choose someone who once got his own kingdom destroyed? Someone who couldn't take a stand for anything, if his life depended on it?"

There was a time when those words would have completely crushed Brian's spirit and sent him hiding away in shame and defeat. There was a time when the mere mention of his past, and the mere sound of Henrik's voice would have him shaking, sweating and hyperventilating. But that time was over.

"You know what? You're right." Brian's voice boomed with a strength and confidence he never knew he possessed. Even Henrik seemed taken aback. Who was this brave, gallant warrior who now stood confronting him? Where was the cowardly, pathetic Lard Butt he once knew? "I'm not good enough for Elsa, because no one is. Angels should not fall in love with men. I don't know if Elsa loves me, and I don't know if she ever will. But I can tell you this. You can turn the whole world against Elsa, but I will _never_ stop loving her, and I will _never_ stop trying to rid the earth of people like you!"

As Henrik's guard was temporarily lowered, Brian lunged forward with herculean speed and strength. The nine-tooth rake flashed through the air in a deadly arc. Henrik moved to parry the blow and dodge aside, but one of the sharp little spikes caught his ear. He roared in pain and spat out a vicious string of profanity, as his entire right ear was ripped loose, and blood gushed down the side of his face. But the King of the Southern Isles was a tough, hardy man and he recovered quickly. Henrik swiped furiously with his sword, but Brian had already stepped far out of range.

"You may have the upper hand right now, Henrik. But Elsa has more strength and courage in her pinky than you do in your entire body. You wouldn't survive one week of what she endured for thirteen years. There is nothing—and I mean _nothing_ — Elsa wouldn't do to protect the ones she loves. But of course you don't know that, because you don't know the first thing about love."

Brian threw down the rake and raced for the castle. Kai rushed out to meet him. The doctor gasped as he glanced over Kai's severely bruised face and broken nose. Before he could inquire, Kai waved him off. "Hans and Henrik have convinced the whole kingdom that Elsa is responsible for setting this plague upon Arendelle. They also accused Elsa of murdering her own family. Right now she is badly injured and in hiding. To prove her innocence, you have to show everyone that Anna and Kristoff are alive!"

Doctor Helmholtz reached for his shoulder. "Kai, we have to take care of you first. Come, I can have you fixed up in five minutes."

The older man shook his head vigorously. "Not a second to waste! Hans is leading a mob to hunt down Elsa this very moment, as we speak!" Kai clutched at a stitch in his chest and struggled to breathe. But his eyes were smiling and serene. "You love her, don't you? Take care of Elsa for me."

Brian nodded stiffly. "I will." Without another word, he mounted his horse and burst through the open gates, feeling more alive and invigorated than he'd ever felt. Henrik briefly tried to apprehend him, but Brian swept past without eve turning his head. He would've dearly loved to battle Henrik to the death right then and there, but he had more important things—and people—to attend to.

"There's a brave young woman fighting for her life out there. I'm gonna go and fight by her side."

* * *

Elsa had been stumbling through the outskirts of the kingdom for an indefinite length of time, when a loud racket of angry voices sounded behind her. She tried to quicken her pace, wanting to make it to the forest where there was an abundance of hiding places. But in her incapacitated condition, every step was a painful exertion. Her clothes were caked with dried blood, and fresh streaks of crimson continued leaking out from the shredded fabric.

She was getting colder and colder by the second, and her vision blurring. The frigid December wind was like a blade of ice against her chapped cheeks. Her fingers and toes were completely frozen by now, and marred with the tenebrous hue of frostbite. Several of her nails had split in half. The icy wind sheared mercilessly at the exposed flesh and chilled her to the bone. Threads of ice crawled further up her fingers, encasing her palms in a fine layer of frost.

Out of nowhere, a crossbow whizzed through the air and impaled her through the crook of the arm. A torrential spurt of blood drenched her clothes, as her arm was completely amputated from the elbow down. Elsa collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap.

In no time at all, she was surrounded by a mob of thousands of angry citizens, with Hans standing at the forefront. Hans stood tall and proud as he reiterated the charges against her. "There she is! The wicked witch who cast this horrible epidemic down upon Arendelle. The one who murdered her own sister and brother-in-law. Today we bring her to justice!"

The mob screamed their approval. "Kill the witch! Cut her heart out! Burn her at stake!"

Elsa forced herself to stand, clutching pitifully at the bloody stump of her arm. "Please," she managed to protest through chattering teeth. "Don't believe him! I've done nothing of the sort! Hans and Henrik are the ones who—

"Liar!" Hans shrieked. His hand sprang out and slapped Elsa viciously across the face, knocking several of her teeth loose.

"I'm innocent!" Elsa forced herself to scream. The blonde's face contorted in pain as a fresh wave of ice tore through her chest, causing her knees to buckle. Tears trickled down from her beautiful sapphire eyes; radiant even in the face of death. "I love this kingdom and its citizens. If I could, I would switch places with any one of those poor people. You have to believe me! I would never do anything to—"

The mob instantly drowned her out. "Enough with the lies! Kill the witch!"

An enormous guard who stood six and a half feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds stepped forward. His face was a solid mask of stone, and there was not a trace of empathy in his eyes. With a curt not of Hans' head, the man stretched out his arms and flexed a short, heavy whip with nine leather thongs. Each one had a small ball of lead fastened to its end. "I'm sorry, but you really brought this onto yourself."

Elsa screamed in agony as the cat-o-nine-tails sliced through her flesh. At first, only the skin was broken. But by five strokes, the flagellum was gouging deep into the subcutaneous tissues and unleashing a cataclysmic outpouring of blood from arteries beneath the muscle tissue. Hans' expression was pure bliss as the guard gave a particularly adept swing, and smashed her entire left ribcage with a single blow. The arches of bone could be seen peeking out from bloody crevices carved into her torso. Dozens of long, frayed tendrils of mangled flesh hung from her body like earthworms. Flecks of blood catapulted through the air and spattered all over the ground in a five-meter radius, as the scourging continued. Liter after liter of crimson streamed from the huge gaping wounds that covered her legs and torso, pooling around her body in a veritable ocean of blood.

Finally, the instrument snapped in two. Hans patted the guard on the back, nodding in smug satisfaction as he watched the lifeblood ebbing out of Elsa's broken, mangled body. Aside from the faint rising and falling of her chest, Elsa lay completely motionless.

"Shall we kill her?" Someone in the crowd inquired.

Hans shook his head. "The witch enjoys making people suffer. She doesn't deserve a quick death." He raised a heavy iron club over his head and brought it down across Elsa's knees with all of his might. A loud, earsplitting crack reverberated through the air for several miles, as the bones splintered. "She won't be going anywhere, now. Leave her to the wolves."

Soon the skies grew dark and the sun retreated beneath the western horizon. The mob dispersed, muttering words of savage vindication. Justice had been served. The wicked witch was gone. Frosty's reign of terror had been put to an end.

 **More to come! Remember to give Elsa a hug; she really needs one.**


	26. The Demise of Frosty

**Here we are with the newest installment of Frosty and Lard Butt! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! If I take a while to respond to your reviews, I apologize. School & work are keeping me very busy! But I PROMISE I will get back to you!**

 **Several of the** **Guest** **reviewers have correctly identified that my stories tend to be pretty brutal towards our lovely Snow Queen. The reason is that I see Elsa as a sort of tragic hero. The strengths of her character are most clearly shown in moments of trial and suffering. So although I do love fluff, I feel that fluffy stories don't do justice to Elsa's very profound and complex character.**

 **Note:** **I won't be updating the Alternate Ending for a while, because the next few chapters will be identical for both stories. I will get back to the Alternate Ending around Chapter 28, when the plotlines start to diverge again.**

 **10pm update: Guest brings up a good point. The whole kingdom (or at least everyone who stayed healthy through the plague) just committed treason. What should be done about them?**

 **WARNING: The angst reaches its maximum in this chapter!**

 **Chapter 26:**

Night had fallen, and Elsa continued lying motionlessly on the cold hard soil. Her clothes were thoroughly saturated with dried blood, and fresh streams of crimson continued to trickle down. By now, her normally rosy complexion was devoid of all color, except for a bluish tint begotten of hypothermia and blood loss.

Thomas Hobbes once declared that human life in its basest state was "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short." Never before had Elsa agreed so profoundly with that cynical dissertation. Tonight she would draw her final breath, and not a living soul would notice or care that she was gone. She would die an exile, an outcast, reviled by all. Nothing but a mere inkstain upon the annals of history.

One eyelid weakly fluttered open just a sliver. Tears dripped down her eyelashes, freezing as they fell. Elsa had known ever since she was eight years old that she was destined for a life of isolation and ostracism, but never did she imagine it would end like this. Never again would she hear Anna's cheerful voice fill the halls with music and laughter, or see those bright turquoise eyes glowing with affection. Never again would she wake up in her own bed, see another sunrise, or inhale the fresh morning sea breeze.

She would never get to tell Brian her true feelings. But perhaps it was better that way. Some people weren't meant to be loved.

Elsa felt a strange sense of finality pulsing through her soul. Her time was coming, and she knew it. Although she hadn't always done the right things, she truly had given her all in fulfilling the roles to which she was assigned. That she could declare with confidence before the Lord. She ran the race, fought the good fight, and now she would be lifted to eternal peace. With eyes fixed on the ground, Elsa breathed a final prayer, knowing that at any second she would be with Mama and Papa again. _Into your hands I commit my spirit._

Then her chest fell and she descended peacefully into oblivion.

* * *

The darkened forest was a blur of indecipherable shapes and forms beneath the moonlight, as Brian rode through the mountains towards Kristoff's lakeside cabin, in a race against time. Every moment was precious. Every idle second was time in which Elsa could be slipping further and further beyond his reach. The clumsy, erratic hoofbeats of his horse sent violent shockwaves through his bones, and his lower back was becoming terribly sore. But Brian paid no heed. He drew his sword and hacked furiously at tree branches that blocked his path. With every ounce of strength, he willed himself to persevere.

Kai's words rang loud and clear in his mind. To prove Elsa's innocence, he had to show everyone that Anna and Kristoff were alive. Only then would people see that Hans and Henrik were lying. Only then would people finally see who the true villains really were.

As Brian pondered the series of events that led to their current predicament, frustration coursed through his veins. His professional training as a scientist had inculcated him to place great value on logic and reason, and his childhood experiences made him a man who believed strongly in fair play. Doctor Helmholtz was very sensitive to injustice in the world, and was easily frustrated by ignorant, biased people who could only think with their emotions. How could Arendelle turn against Elsa, after she had been nothing but good to them? How could they be so easily deceived? How could they believe Hans and Henrik?

 _Idiots!_ Brian was almost gnashing his teeth in frustration. _If you want a Westergard on the throne, then it's the least you ignorant, backstabbing traitors deserve!_ The doctor pressed his heels into the flank of his horse. "Faster!" As they continued on their path, the steed came to a sudden halt, nearly throwing Brian off.

"Come on, boy. Keep moving!" Brian gave the reins a sharp little tug. When the stubborn ungulate refused to move, he jerked harder. They were wasting precious time, and Brian was getting impatient. Elsa could be in trouble this very minute. "Hey, what's the holdup?"

The horse dithered about aimlessly with its snout in the air. After a few seconds, it bolted off the path, snorting frantically, and began pawing at a clump of undergrowth.

Brian slowly dismounted. "This better be important," he sighed. The doctor crouched down and parted the dense foliage. He tentatively reached into the impenetrable blackness and groped around, but felt nothing but twigs and leaves. Until his hand strayed further south, and his fingertips brushed against something cold and smooth.

Curious, Brian retrieved his lantern and peered in closer. Nothing could have prepared him for the dreadful sight that assaulted his senses, and would scar him for years to come.

"Elsa!" The strangled sob barely escaped his throat. His darling, precious Elsa was lying in a heap beneath a clump of bushes, battered beyond recognition. She was covered from head to toe with hideous-looking cuts and bruises. Strips of mangled flesh hung from her limbs and torso, as evidence of a vicious beating. Her arms and legs were broken and bent at such awkward angles, that she resembled a human crab. Deep gashes to various parts of her body revealed festering joints and ligaments, completely laid bare. Elsa's soft blonde hair was caked with dried blood and dirt. Only by the beautiful sapphire medallion that hung around her neck—his gift to her—could Brian even recognize the woman he so loved.

The royal physician was no stranger to grotesque injuries, but Elsa looked as if she had been shoved into a wood chipper. Brian turned aside and emptied his stomach onto the moist grass, with tears streaming down his cheeks. This was a new low, even for the Westergards. How could anyone be so cruel to sweet, innocent, beautiful Elsa? _You will pay for this, Henrik! For as long as I live, I will not rest until you are dead!_

He grabbed her wrist, and felt the faintest signal of life. Her pulse could die out any moment. Brian fumbled through his satchel with trembling fingers, his sobs intensifying. "I'm going to save you, Elsa. Because you are worth it. You always were, and you always will be."

Soon his fingers found a small, round flask half-filled with sparkling pink potion. The rosy-colored fluid smoked and bubbled vibrantly, as a tiny beacon of light amidst a ubiquity of darkness and despair. "I'm going to save you, Elsa," he repeated softly. Brian gently tilted back Elsa's head and let the potion trickle down her throat.

Very slowly, Elsa's wounds began to patch up, and her pulse strengthened. But her skin was still deathly cold. Given her battered state, the healing process could take an entire day to complete, and he had another mission to complete.

Wasting no time, Brian scooped Elsa's limp form into his arms and made a quick detour to the Valley of the Living Rock. "Take care of her," he whispered to no one in particular. His only audience was an array of small, round boulders that lay completely inanimate. Brian carefully laid Elsa down on a soft bed of moss, and cast one final pleading look in her direction. "You've going to be fine, Elsa," he whispered. "I'm going to bring back Anna and Kristoff, and everyone will know that Hans and Henrik lied. The truth will be out. And the truth will set you free. Then you will finally receive the love and acceptance you deserve, and is so long overdue."

He stroked her hair affectionately. "Sleep tight, my angel. Tomorrow will be a brighter day." Then he quickly vanished into the shadows.

* * *

 _Some time later..._

"She's alive." A soft, raspy male voice whispered.

"The poor girl," the second voice was tender and motherly. "She really took a savage beating. But she will survive because she was so dearly loved… right?"

"We can only hope that it was enough," a third voice spoke in the slow, solemn tone of an elderly sage imparting wisdom upon his young disciples.

Elsa's eyes were closed and her senses dulled by a blinding headache. A humdrum of unfamiliar, indecipherable voices droned on in the distance. The last thing she remembered was the furious shouts of the mob, Hans' sneering and vindictive face, and finally a blinding flash of pain. After that she fell into an indefinite period of silence and nothingness. She had no idea if she was even alive of dead. _Am I in heaven?_ Elsa wondered silently.

A stab of cold beneath her breastbone quickly told her that she wasn't. Elsa drew a deep, laborious breath and sat up straight. Her aching joints and muscles creaked under her exertion. She rubbed her head several times and began to examine her own body. Most of her injuries had healed nicely, but she still felt terribly cold. Beneath the moonlight, she could have sworn that streaks of blue were spiraling through her blonde hair. The skin on the back of her hands was cracked and bleeding, as ice continued to saturate her flesh. Elsa shivered and hugged both knees to her chest.

"What's going on?" she wondered aloud through chattering teeth. Her voice sounded strangely distant and hollow. "Where am I? Where are Hans and Henrik?"

A pair of cool, stony hands held her gently by the shoulders. "My poor child," Grand Pabbie's voice rasped. "Thank goodness you're awake."

Elsa smiled in appreciation and reciprocated his hug. "Thank you for saving me." Grateful tears rolled down her cheeks, freezing as they fell. "But why am I so cold? I've never felt this way before."

The troll elder looked her quizzically in the eye, ignoring her question. "Elsa, I'm sure by now you've discovered that you are immune to this dreadful illness that is killing the rest of the kingdom. At sunrise on the Winter Solstice, everyone who has been infected will perish in terrible agony. But you cannot be harmed."

She nodded slowly. "I have indeed."

Elsa's bewildered expression was replaced with hurt, as she remembered what had transpired the last time she spoke to the troll. How he had refused to divulge any information. "Grand Pabbie, I know all about Formula XIV now, and I know how it must be cured. What I don't understand is why you couldn't tell me before. Don't you trust me? Did you think I would do such a terrible thing if presented with the option?" The blonde trembled violently and pulled a mossy blanket tight around her body. "I would give my own heart before taking anyone else's."

Grand Pabbie hung his head in contrition. "I'm sorry, Elsa. It was wrong of me. I never doubted you for a moment. I was afraid you would be deeply scarred by that revelation, and thought I was protecting you. But I was wrong. Keeping secrets and expecting blind compliance does more harm than good. We of all people ought to know that." The troll sighed deeply. "I may be thousands of years old, but I have learned so much from you and your sister."

"I understand. But isn't there anything else we can do to cure—" Elsa's face suddenly contorted as she clutched her chest in agony, and collapsed to the ground.

Grand Pabbie knelt by her side with great concern, and spoke in a grandfatherly tone. "Elsa, do you know why you cannot be touched by Henrik's curse? Why you even have some limited ability to heal people?" The blonde shook her head, gasping through the pain. Another streak of icy blue was weaving its way through her hair.

"Your powers have kept you safe. When you laid your hands on the sick, those wicked fumes in their bodies spread into yours. They were healed at your expense. But your powers acted up to absorb those deadly toxins and keep you protected. That is why you cannot contract the illness."

Grand Pabbie brought Elsa closer to the fire pit. Her skin was becoming paler with each passing moment and her lips were tinged blue. "Unfortunately, you've pushed yourself too far. Your system has become oversaturated with Formula XIV, and your magic has been stimulated beyond what your body can handle. I'm afraid you're becoming a victim of your own powers. There is ice in your heart, thanks to that wicked man who dares call himself King. "

"Just like an allergic reaction or auto-immune response," Elsa whispered through chattering teeth, remembering what Brian had taught her. By now, her blonde locks were almost completely blue in color. "I'm being attacked by my own defensive mechanisms going out of control. Grand Pabbie, is there anything you can do?"

The elderly troll wiped away a tear. "I'm sorry my child, but I cannot. If the ice were in any other part of your body, it would be easy. But only an Act of True Love can thaw a frozen heart."

 _Love._ That simple but powerful word resonated painfully in Elsa's heart. Love had the power to save lives, restore hope, and redeem the vilest sinner from his perfidious ways. But where would she find love? The whole kingdom wanted her dead. Anna and Kristoff had no idea what had happened to her. And Brian never wanted to see her again.

Elsa hung her head in defeat and resignation, eyes brimming with tears. "I don't even know what love is…"

Grand Pabbie reached out to wipe a stray tear trickling down her cheek. "Love is putting someone else's needs before yours. Love is sacrifice. When we found you, you had sixty-six broken bones and lost two-thirds of the blood in your body. You were hit so hard in the head, you went deaf in one ear. There was spinal fluid leaking into the back of your throat, filling up your lungs. Just a few more minutes and you would have died. Elsa, do you know why you're still alive?"

The ancient troll reached behind his back and produced a small glass bottle that was almost empty. Tiny dregs of fluorescent pink liquid stained the bottom of the flask.

Elsa's eyes widened as realization dawned upon her. "Brian! I've seen this bottle in his office before, and I've always wondered what it was!"

The troll shaman nodded. "This is a very powerful healing elixir. Doctor Helmholtz came to us a month ago with this potion that he had brewed himself. He explained that you were violently assaulted by Prince Hans after resisting his advances one night. Doctor Helmholtz feared for your safety as long as the Westergards were around, and so he brewed this potion as an emergency precaution. But he was afraid that the potion would be stolen or misused, so he asked me to implement one final limitation on its usage. Do you know what that special condition was?"

Elsa shook her head, thoroughly intrigued. How sweet it was for Brian to be so deeply concerned about her.

"Love," Grand Pabbie explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "He wanted to make sure the potion would only work if the creator truly loved the recipient. In order to make that happen, he made a tremendous sacrifice. It cost two years of his natural lifespan, to have his life force infused into the potion. Don't you see, Elsa? In spite of all your fears, you are deeply loved. Brian wanted to make sure his sacrifice was for you and you alone."

Elsa was deathly silent for several minutes as she ruminated upon this startling revelation. Brian Helmholtz, the greatest physician in the Western Hemisphere and one of the most accomplished men in the world, had sacrificed life and limb for a wretched witch like her. "Brian loves me?" Elsa stammered irresolutely. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized what she had done. "And I loved him too. But I was so stupid… so tactless. I pushed him away, and now he'll never want to see me again."

"Oh really?" Grand Pabbie gave a soft, soothing chuckle. Then he lifted a stubby gray arm and pointed to the snowy slopes of the distant mountains. "Look yonder."

Elsa turned her head and squinted. Beneath a full moon, she could discern three people, a horse and a reindeer flying at breakneck speed towards Arendelle. Her heart leapt and her face shone with renewed hope. "He came back for me!"

Grand Pabbie smiled, sharing in her newfound joy. "Go on, Elsa. There's your True Love's Kiss. Go save yourself."

"I will! Thank you Grand Pabbie, for all you've done for me." Elsa hopped to her feet.

The troll smiled affectionately. "Thank me by believing in yourself. Oh, and one more thing." Elsa slowly turned around.

"Happy birthday, Elsa."

* * *

Elsa drifted in and out of consciousness as she stumbled across the frozen landscape at a painfully slow and laborious pace. The cold was brutal and the wind mercilessly attacked the lines of raw, tender, exposed flesh on her chapped and bleeding cheeks. With every passing moment, her vision became blurrier and her world colder. Elsa's blonde hair was now completely ice-blue, and her face absent of all color.

"Brian…" she managed to wheeze. "I love you…" Elsa could hardly even breathe as the frigid air constricted her airways and lacerated the delicate membranes of her sinuses.

A loud, vehement cry rang out in the distance. Elsa turned around and gasped as a thousand orange pinpricks of light assaulted her vision. They were the light of torches. Somehow, people had discovered that Elsa survived her ordeal, and were now in hot pursuit. Elsa had to move faster if she was to reach Brian in time. She clenched her teeth and continued plodding up the snowy mountainside.

Brian had spotted her! Although he was too far away for her to see his face, she could sense the palpable determination resonating from his being. His horse quickened its pace and thundered across the snow with swift, powerful hoofbeats. Sven followed closely behind.

Unfortunately, the mob had spotted her too. Rabid cries of "Kill the witch!" echoed through the vast expanses of open space. Two men with auburn hair stood on the front line, leading the charge.

A sudden stab of pain in his chest brought Elsa to her knees. There was no doubt about it. Her heart was freezing and she was running out of time. Only an act of true love could save her.

"No…" she whispered faintly. Elsa could feel the icy tendrils wrapping themselves around her heart in a crushing grip. They slithered along her entrails like large thorny snakes, proliferated throughout her body and saturating every nook and cranny of her insides. A sharp explosion of pain beneath her sternum almost made her cry out in agony. Although she wanted nothing more than to collapse in the snow, Elsa knew that she had to persevere. Ignoring her pain and fatigue, Elsa forced herself to continue trudging up the mountain.

Her Knight in Shining Armor was less than a mile away by now. What a brave, valiant man Brian was! And he looked so majestic as he stood silhouetted against the indigo sky and silvery snow.

The mob was also converging. Elsa could distinctly hear Hans and Henrik's voices.

"Kill the witch! Kill the witch! Kill the witch!"

Brian leapt up from where he sat, grabbed his rifle and fired. The explosive projectile streaked high through the air and struck a loose ledge that was precariously perched on the edge of a cliff. Violent tremors reverberated through the entire crag, as the bullet buried itself solidly into stone. A cascade of snow plummeted down, creating a miniature avalanche in Elsa's wake. The mob was forced to temporarily retreat.

 _Impeccable aim and timing, my love,_ Elsa thought affectionately. She smiled and reached down to retrieve the silver necklace tucked beneath her collar, and planted a kiss on the sapphire medallion. But this was no time for sentimentality. She had to keep moving.

Elsa's teeth chattered as she pulled her cloak tighter around her trembling body. The icy claw was tightening its grip around her heart, and any moment, it would completely strangle the life out of her. If she was to survive, she had to make haste.

"Elsa!" At the sound of her name, the blonde snapped to attention. Brian was only a few hundred meters away. Hope shone in those cold, barren eyes that were rapidly glazing over with death. Brian dug his heels into the horse's flank, and they catapulted forward with lightning speed. With both hands clasped tightly over her chest, Elsa stumbled forward to meet him. She was going to make it!

Until she was sidetracked by a most alarming apparition.

Out the corner of her eye, Elsa caught a faint golden glow peeking over the eastern horizon. The sun was about to rise! Grand Pabbie's words rang sharp and clear in her mind. _When the sun rises on the winter solstice, all who have been infected with this wretched curse will die a most excruciating death._

"Wait a minute," Elsa whispered to herself, as she stood dithering. "Today is my birthday, the Winter Solstice…"

She was forced to make a choice, and she knew what had to be done. Elsa turned back to Brian once last time. "I love you," she mouthed. "And thank you for loving me." With a twirl of her fingers, she summoned an icy butterfly to flutter across the barren expanses of tundra, and settle on Brian's shoulder. Then she turned aside and began climbing in the opposite direction, until she reached the mountain's summit. From this vantage point, Elsa could see the kingdom in its entirety. She held out her arms like a mother beckoning her child home.

 _Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always endures. Love never fails. Prophesies will fade and knowledge will pass… but love will always remain._ And she truly meant it, as Elsa looked out upon that great multitude of angry recalcitrant faces. Compassion stirred in her heart, as Elsa looked upon those people whose souls were broken and whose hearts were sick. People who had been preyed upon in a moment of emotional vulnerability, and fell prey to predatory influences. People who had their humanity stripped away.

People who needed a second chance, just like she once did.

Spears of ice blasted through Elsa's veins, erupting outwards, spreading across her skin and slicing up her entrails. As the icy curse took its toll, one final wisp of memory flashed through her mind. Anna's frozen body on the fjord. Her sister's face immortalized in a silent scream and her hand outstretched, in defiant opposition against all the forces of darkness that threatened to destroy a family and kingdom built on mutual love.

Ever since her grateful but disbelieving eyes had seen that miraculous sight, redeeming love had been her theme. And it would remain so until the day she drew her final breath. So with a dying but steadfast heart, Elsa held out her hands. She willed that wicked plague to leave the bodies of all who lay dying below, and enter into her own. Because you never give up on the ones you love. Because love involved sacrifice and self-denial. Because nothing ever felt like a burden or hardship when performed out of love. It was the very quintessence of true love, to put to death one's own goals, aspirations, desires and comforts—to give up one's dreams, relinquish one's rights, and surrender selflessly to a higher cause.

It wasn't fair, and it wasn't justified. But it was love.

The mob dropped their torches, and everyone stood in wide-eyed shocked with mouths hanging open as they watched. Thin streams of green smoke trailed out from the multitude of buildings and homes below, spiraling through the air towards that bluish-white figure that stood perched atop the mountain with arms held out.

In Arendelle below, great shouts of disbelief rang out from every home, as the cursed epidemic was banished into nothingness. But the entourage that had gathered in the mountains were too stunned to utter a sound.

Relationships had been broken by a chasm deep as the ocean, but love would run deeper. Hearts had gone cold and strayed far away from the truth, but love would reach further. A fountain of love opened deep and wide atop the mountain that day, flowing down the austere slopes of the North Mountain. All the wayward, rebellious ingrates who plunged beneath its healing tide would be restored to grace.

Wisp after wisp of Formula XIV, from tens of thousands of bodies below, permeated her skin and entered Elsa's body through her palms. Deep within, her powers exploded with great vigor, stimulated vast beyond any reasonable measure, revolting against her body. She clasped her hands tightly together and brought them close to her chest, trembling under the debilitating exertion.

Finally, Elsa's heart gave out and became one with the ice that completely overwhelmed it. Flesh and blood turned to solid ice, as the hapless heroine drew her final breath and stepped through the gates of eternity.

Today was Frosty's birthday. And she was dead.

 **More to come! What do you think? Is Frosty gone forever? Or is another miracle in store?**


	27. Some People Are Worth Freezing For

**Author's Note:**

 **This should have been said much sooner, but better late than never…**

 **I wrote most of my stories during a very angst-filled time in my life, when I was going through an intense spiritual crisis (which I only resolved recently).**

 **Part of the reason I fell in love with Frozen, is because I saw the Gospel message of saving and transforming grace in its story (** **PM me if you would like an explanation!** **). That is why I've tried to replicate those themes in all my writing.**

 **In retrospect, the profanity and vulgar jokes were all completely uncalled for. That was the product of a rebellious and nihilistic attitude that grew in me during this time. Please forgive me. There won't be any more of that in my stories, and I'm going back right now to edit them out of earlier chapters & stories. **

**Though I have given Elsa many Christlike qualities for the story's sake, please understand that I am NOT trying to deify Elsa or make her into an idol. But rather it is allegorical. Although any manmade work is limited at best, it is my hope that everyone who is reading will see the power of repentance and salvation that is found in Christ alone.**

* * *

 **"And in mercy shall the throne be established: and he shall sit upon it in truth in the tabernacle of David, judging, and seeking judgment, and hasting righteousness." – Isaiah 16:5**

" **The Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep." – John 10:11**

" **Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." – John 15:13**

" **But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." – Romans 5:8**

" **T** **hen make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.** **Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,** **not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.** **In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus." – Phillippians 2:2-5**

 **Chapter 27:**

Over ten thousand heads were bowed in shameful silence, as they beheld with disbelieving eyes the tremendous act of love and sacrifice performed on their behalves that day. There Elsa stood, perched atop the peak of the North Mountain. Eyes solemn but full of tenderness. Hands clasped over her cold, silent heart. Lips slightly parted, never to utter another syllable or draw another breath. Forever stuck in a statue of frozen death, because her love never failed in spite of it all.

In the kingdom below, from thousands of homes and hospital wards and makeshift emergency shelters, countless were healed in that fateful moment. The wretched curse of Formula XIV had been banished from Arendelle without a single casualty. Except for the one who had been impervious to its effects… yet made herself vulnerable so that others might be delivered.

No one was more dismayed than the one who loved her most. Brian could barely keep himself from collapsing to the ground in a heap of anguish, as he trudged through the knee-deep snow. He had failed her in the worst possible way. When she needed him most, he was nowhere to be found. When she was being persecuted to the ends of the earth and getting beaten senseless, he was miles away. Now she was gone, and no amount of tears or pleading would ever bring her back.

The whole kingdom watched in heartbroken stillness as Brian clung pitifully to Elsa's frozen body. His head was nestled against her chest, as cold and silent as the deepest caverns of the North Mountain. "Elsa, please... you can't die on me. You're the only true friend I've ever had. All those years of hiding my pathetic, cowardly self behind that flimsy façade of accomplishments… all those years of chasing after accolades, but always feeling cold and empty inside because I was motivated by fear and not love… my life had no meaning until you came along. I'd always been a pathetic, worthless coward until you showed me I could be so much more…"

The minutes crept by, but Elsa remained very much frozen and inanimate. Anna and Kristoff hung back, with their own tears streaming, praying fervently and desperately for a miracle.

Brian's entire body shook as a violent gust of sobs wracked his chest. "I promise to be a better man," he whispered in her ear. "Just give me one more chance, and I'll show you. I can learn to overcome my past. I can stop feeling sorry for myself. Oh Elsa, I wanted to give you the world… I wanted to hold you in my arms and twirl you around. To stand with you at the altar and profess my everlasting love for you. I wanted to give you a family, grow old together, make you the happiest woman alive. But now you're gone forever…"

His words went unanswered, echoing vacantly across the empty expanses of ice. High overhead, a few oblivious birds squawked abrasively. There was simply no reason, no logic underlying the strange and powerful force called love. No one knew how that inexplicable bond of love had managed to survive mountains of anger and estrangement. But somehow it did. And the evidence stood in plain view on the North Mountain, for all to see.

The royal physician gazed into her face with tears pouring down his cheeks. Pale, lifeless orbs stared back at him from within their icy enclosures. "Good bye, Elsa," he whispered. "I love you." Without thinking, he planted a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

As Doctor Helmholtz continued to wallow in misery, he was only vaguely aware of a strange warmth pressing against his chest. He quickly dismissed the sensation. He must have been hallucinating in his grief.

But the circle of warmth expanded, intensified, and seemed to swallow up his entire being. What was going on?

The doctor's bleary, bloodshot eyes drifted south. Then he jumped back in shock, daring not to believe what he was seeing. The ice that covered Elsa's chest was thawing! A circle of warmth emanated outwards from that beautiful sapphire medallion that hung around her neck. The final remnant of his love that she had clung to.

But it didn't stop there. An interface of warmth spread across her chest, unlocking her dead and dormant heart from its icy prison. Brian could've sworn he heard an angelic choir singing softly in the distance. The heat continued downwards across her entire body, until ice became flesh and blood once again. Finally, Elsa drew a deep breath and opened her eyes. There was not a scar or blemish on her skin, and not a shadow of pain in her countenance.

"Elsa!" Brian shrieked hysterically. He flung his arms around her warm body, pulling her tightly against himself and squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her heart beat against his in a steady, invigorating rhythm, alive with love's strong current.

"You sacrificed yourself… after all that, for…" his voice trailed off, tentative and irresolute, still in disbelief over what he had seen.

Elsa's face broke into a smile. "Love will thaw. You and Anna taught me that," she whispered. Elsa reached up to brush back a lock of his hair, so she could look straight into Brian's face. "I promised Mama, Papa and God that for as long as I lived, I would never again abandon my duties to Arendelle. It wasn't easy, but love made it worthwhile."

Indeed, all things were possible with a loving heart and a selfless spirit. No mountain was too high, no valley too deep, and no cross too heavy. Many frozen hearts were thawed by that act of true love. Hearts that had become imprisoned by lies, driven to insanity by frantic emotions. Hearts that had grown cold and wandered away from the truth.

"Besides," Elsa continued, beaming from ear to ear as she gazed into Brian's eyes. "Some people are worth melting for… and you are one of them."

* * *

 _A few minutes earlier…_

Henrik smirked to himself. He had done it! The witch was destroyed.

His mind wandered back to their meeting in the dungeons, when Elsa had been in chains and awaiting her execution. Again and again, he had tried to entice her with promises of glamor and riches. If the witch pledged allegiance to him, he could have Hans framed for her crimes and she exonerated. If she agreed to use her powers for his purposes, they would conquer the world together. But she had refused him at every turn.

When he realized that none of his offers were going to successfully goad Elsa into submitting to him, Henrik knew he must settle for the next best option: If he couldn't have her powers for himself, then he would make sure no one ever could. If the powerful sorceress wasn't going to serve him, then she had to die. And now she _was_ dead.

She had made his job far too easy. By refusing to lift a hand against her own people, Elsa had given him an indestructible weapon to use against her. She had rendered herself defenseless. She had all but ensured her own demise.

The King of the Southern Isles grinned blissfully. "Poor, foolish Arendelle. You're mine!"

In no time at all, Henrik would bring over an army of his own soldiers, and take over this weakened kingdom. Then he'd stage a simple accident for his idiot brother, and Arendelle would be his alone. It was too easy.

A soft twinkling melody suddenly chimed in the distance, like a child's music box. A collective gasp arose from the crowd. Elsa was thawing! The icy blue shell that imprisoned her entire body was melting away. Henrik blinked furiously, his brain screaming in enraged denial, but there was no mistake. The witch was alive.

 _What?_ Henrik almost yelped aloud. _This is preposterous! It can't be! The witch is dead… I saw her freeze before my very own eyes!_

As Elsa revived fully and shared some words with Lard Butt that Henrik couldn't hear, the duo locked arms in a heartwarming embrace. The crowd rejoiced wildly. Henrik hardly paid attention as his mind continued to race.

Suddenly, the tide of public opinion began to turn. As the emotional fervor slowly died down, rationality began settling back in. As the crowd began to settle down from the adrenaline-fueled ecstasy of Frosty's resurrection, the truth became clear. People's heads began to turn, eyeing the Westergard brothers with murderous rage. Men took up arms once again, whispering and pointing furiously at the two auburn-haired men.

The truth was out. The Snow Queen was not a wicked sorceress, but the creator of beautiful magic who always used her God-given abilities for the good of others. It was her accusers who were at fault.

"Wait!" Henrik barked, throwing up his hands before the mob could charge. His voice boomed with strength and power. "I can explain!"

Wasting no time, Henrik seized Hans around the shoulders and planted the younger man squarely in front of him. Before Hans could react, the King of the Southern Isles grabbed him by the wrist and ripped open his sleeve. The wrenching, cacophonous sound of tearing fabric echoed sharply. In their confusion, the crowd hesitated.

Henrik yanked Hans' arm high into the air, revealing the mark that had been branded into his inner elbow on the day Formula XIV was purchased. The magical emblem that signified their transaction with the alchemist. "Look!"

A sharp intake of breath arose from the crowd. There was no mistake. The insignia branded into Hans' forearm was identical, down to the very last detail, to the mark printed on the bottle of Formula XIV.

"I'll tell you what really happened!" Henrik snarled. "Clearly, it was Hans who purchased this poison. It was Hans who set this curse down upon the kingdom. The evidence is carved into his very flesh." The eldest Westergard violently shoved Hans to the ground and spat in his face. "Treacherous snake! You are no brother of mine!"

"What?" Hans sputtered, white-faced and furious. In his stupor, he could barely string together a single coherent sentence. "Why you lying, backstabbing—"

"Yes?" Henrik demanded impatiently. "Are you accusing me?"

"It was Henrik!" Hans screamed furiously. "He tricked me! I didn't have a choice! Everything I've ever done, was all because he made me do it!"

But Henrik was not amused. "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, Hans. As we can plainly see, there is not a single shred of evidence linking me to Formula XIV, while you have its mark branded into your skin. Let's also remember that this wasn't the first time you tried to usurp Arendelle, either. Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

At these words, the townspeople began turning their attention towards the younger Westergard. What Henrik said made perfect sense. It was Hans who first claimed that Elsa was responsible for the plague. It was Hans who led the mob to hunt down Elsa in the forest. It was Hans who had the demonic insignia branded into his arm. It was Hans who had tried to usurp the throne before.

"Him!" A man in the crowd spat furiously, thrusting his finger towards a dumbfounded Hans. "I knew he was up to no good!"

"I knew Prince Hans couldn't be trusted after what he tried to do last time!" a woman screamed.

"Get him!"

"Kill that filthy, conniving rat!"

"Death to Prince Hans!"

Instantly, the mob descended upon Hans with all the fury with which they had attacked Elsa the previous day. Footsteps pounded across the snowy landscape in a veritable earthquake, as the enraged citizens seized their weapons once more, and stomped furiously towards the wicked man who had tried to usurp their kingdom for the second time.

"Help me, brother!" Hans screamed desperately as dozens of rakes, shovels and pitchforks smashed against his head and torso.

Henrik folded his arms and stepped back indifferently. "You are no brother of mine," he stated plainly.

Tears streamed down Hans' cheeks as two guards chained up his wrists and threw him roughly onto the ground. Ignoring his protests, they began dragging him across the snow. "You can't do this to me!" Hans screamed. "I was loyal to you, Henrik!"

The King of the Southern Isles gave a haughty little laugh under his breath. "And that was the biggest mistake of your life."

* * *

Hans shrieked in pain as the bullwhip flashed through the air at lightning speed, and sliced into his upper back. Profanity exploded from his lips and echoed violently through the dungeons. But the guards restraining him paid no attention.

Brian stood in front of Hans. "For the last time, where has Henrik gone, and what is he planning?" While the mob was busy apprehending Hans, the elder Westergard managed to slip away amidst the confusion. After Hans was captured, several Arendelle guards had scoured the nearby vicinity of the mountains and forest. But they had no luck. Henrik seemed to have vanished without a trace.

"I don't know!" Hans twisted his lips and spat furiously in Brian's direction. An enormous mass of phlegm landed on the doctor's cheek. "How dare you talk to me that way, you worthless piece of lard! I am the King of Arendelle, and you are just a fat pig who thinks he's a doctor!"

"That attitude won't get you anywhere, Hans," Kristoff stated plainly. The ice master nodded curtly, and the guard swung his weapon again. The knotted leather cords opened a deep gash across Hans' deltoids.

"I'm telling you, I don't know!" Hans screamed. "Now let me go!"

Kristoff crossed his arms. "You'll get your freedom when we get information. Now speak up. Where is Henrik?"

Hans gave Kristoff his most venomous glare, and lifted one of his chained hands to erect a middle finger. The other guard swiftly boxed his ears and let a volley of lashes rain down across Hans' prostrate body. Hans continued to belt out expletives at the top of his lungs. By now, his clothes were tattered and filthy, and blood was streaming from dozens of open wounds across his torso. A puddle of blood trailed down the arches of his ribs and dripped onto the cold concrete floor. But his rage was far from subsiding.

"Enough!" the first guard, a tall man with light brown hair, bellowed furiously. He grabbed a bucket full of salt water, and poured it onto Hans' lacerated flesh. The thirteenth Prince threw back his head and emitted a bloodcurdling scream. "Henrik betrayed me!" Hans screeched. "He betrayed me and ran away! What makes you think I have any idea what he's up to?"

The two men hesitated to absorb these words. As much as they despised Hans, they couldn't argue with that. Indeed, Henrik had thrown his brother under the bus, and vanished without a trace.

Brian sighed. "Maybe he really doesn't know."

The ice harvester nodded slowly. "You're right, Doc. I guess this means we'll have to find Henrik ourselves. Come, let's round up some troops and head for the mountains. He can't have gone far."

Brian and Kristoff turned on their heels to march out of the dungeons, with the guards following suit. But the men had hardly begun to ascend the staircase, when a frantic pattering of footsteps rang out overhead.

Matthias the stable boy burst into view on the top landing. "Doctor Helmholtz!" he panted, doubling over to catch his breath. "Come quick!"

"What is it?" Brian demanded frantically.

The young lad coughed and sputtered. "It's Master Kai. He's dying."

 **Apologies for a shorter chapter. I didn't want to leave you in suspense for too long, over Elsa's fate. But the next chapter will be significantly more angsty, as Elsa meets with Hans face to face.**


	28. Frosty and Hans

**Sorry about the late update. Final exams complete!**

 **Once again, the one with the frozen heart gives an Act of True Love, instead of receiving one!**

 **To answer the question, the alternate ending won't be continued. At first, I was planning on having Elsa become pregnant by Henrik's assault. She would commit to loving the baby and raising him to be a good man. That way she can break the vicious cycle & prevent another Westergard child from growing up like Hans. **

**While I believe this would be a powerful testament of healing and forgiveness, there was no way of getting around how distasteful the context would be.**

 **Over the next few weeks, I will also get to work on editing** **Brotherly Love** ** & ****Playing Dirty** **. In light of recent events, it is my sincere conviction that stories meant to be a Gospel reflection cannot contain such vulgar language and humor.**

" _ **Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.**_ _ **And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.**_ _ **Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.**_ _ **Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." – Ephesians 4:29-32**_

 **Even though men hated Jesus, called Him a liar and lived in rebellion, He never stopped trying to reach out to thaw our "frozen hearts" from the curse of sin. Though we rejected God's rightful authority over our lives, His love never failed. He died on the cross and rose again on the third day, victorious over sin. His offer of salvation remains open to all who will accept it with a believing and repentant heart.**

 **I take no credit for Frozen, or for the message of Christ that inspired me to write.**

 **Chapter 28:**

Henrik gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath, as he stumbled through the thick undergrowth. He was on the run. Betraying his useless brother had bought him some time, but he still had to act quickly. The witch wasn't stupid. In fact, she was one of the only people whom he even considered an intellectual rival. Any moment, she would be sending men after him.

The King of the Southern Isles laughed out loud as he remembered the stricken look on Hans' face. _Oh Hansie, you're such a tool. Always have been. Desperate, insecure little boys are soooo easy to manipulate._ He vaulted over a large boulder and continued trekking along the mountain path. _Poor, stupid little brother. Did you really think I was your friend?_ Henrik's eyes briefly scanned over the landscape. He was less than ten miles away from Arendelle's northern border. If he made haste, he would be in the neighboring kingdom before nightfall. There was no shortage of bustling ports and idiot longshoremen, whom he could easily bribe into transporting him back to the Southern Isles.

Arendelle was a weakened nation, just recovering from a terrible disaster. But the witch would have them rebounding soon. So Henrik had to be quicker.

The eldest Westergard cackled vindictively, as his mind filled with images of his impending victory. Hans or no Hans, Arendelle would be his! Henrik drew his cutlass and hacked some branches out of the way, clearing up the path. Salty rivulets of perspiration trickled down, soaking his rust-colored sideburns. He continued muttering to himself. "The witch won't recover for weeks, and by then it'll be too late. Tomorrow I'll come back with an army of ten thousand men, and Arendelle will be mine!"

* * *

Elsa knelt by the bedside in the castle infirmary, with tears streaming down her cheeks and both hands clasped in prayer. There was no question about it. Kai was dying. The strong, selfless man who had been there for her since the very beginning, who had stood as a pillar of strength in her darkest days, would soon be no more.

"He's not going to make it," the nurse sadly confirmed. "The poor man took a savage beating at the hands of that monster. That disgusting monster Prince Hans stomped on his chest and stomach with steel-bottomed boots... massive internal bleeding. People much younger and fitter have died from less."

Gerda embraced both of the royal sisters. "Kai loved the both of you as his own daughters."

"Kai, please…" Elsa choked through her tears. "We need you… Don't leave us…"

Kai feebly reached out to squeeze her hand. He had served the royal family since Adgar's youth, and cared for both royal sisters since infancy. He fed them, bathed them, changed their diapers, and rocked them to sleep whenever their mother was busy. At least once a week, he would chase the pint-sized miscreants all over the castle, as they sneaked out of bed for midnight chocolate escapades. As the years passed, Kai watched with helpless despair as their childhoods came to a tragic end. Listened as they cried themselves to sleep night after night, on opposite sides of a closed door. Rejoiced at the miracle of love that brought them back together. Became the proudest man in the land, as they served the kingdom with selfless love and diligence.

Elsa may as well have been his own child. Seeing her cry tore his heart to pieces. Kai had watched as she evolved from a carefree little girl into a traumatized adolescent, and finally into the most strong, wise, capable and compassionate individual to ever bear the crown of Arendelle.

"If your mother and father were here today, they would be so proud of the women you two have become…" he rasped. "I've watched as one tragedy after another threatened to destroy this family. But through it all you persevered. For years I've hoped and prayed that this day would come, when the two of you would be together again as sisters. And now here you are. It was a pleasure to serve you."

"Kai, don't talk like that," Anna pleaded. "We've said a million times before. You're not our servant… you're our family. And family has to stick together."

Kai cracked a weak smile and lifted his opposite hand to stroke her pigtails. "We will always be a family. Mama, Papa and I will be watching you from above, where there will be no more pain. No more sorrow, no more good-byes. Someday, we will all be together again…" Kai's voice trailed off as he coughed violently, spraying flecks of blood all over the sheets.

"Wait a minute!" A familiar voice called out. Everyone turned to see Brian standing in the doorway. The royal physician was in full gear, and had his medical bag clutched in one hand. Determination and resolve were etched into every line of his handsome face. "This isn't over. After all we've been through, we aren't going down like this."

"Brian!" Elsa shrieked hysterically. She flung herself at the doctor and wrapped both arms around his neck in a strangulatory grip. "Please! There has to be something you can do! You have to save him!"

Her anguish tore his heart to pieces. The physician wanted to say something to assuage her fears, but he didn't want to offer any false hope. There was no point mincing words. Kai needed nothing short of a medical miracle. He had suffered extensive bruising to the internal organs, and blood was leaking into his lungs. This operation would be no easy task. A most spectacular feat, that even the brightest minds in the scientific field had never dared attempt. Brian hugged Elsa close to his chest, and rubbed soothing circles into the small of her back. "I'll do what I can."

"No!" Kai suddenly croaked. His breathing was becoming more and more erratic, and blood was trickling out of his mouth in steady streams. "Not worth it!"

"Not worth it?" Anna repeated incredulously. "What do you mean?"

Kai's face contorted in agony, and sweat poured down his ashen cheeks. "Leave me," he panted. "It's for the best. Go find Henrik. Don't let him escape."

"What are you talking about? We have plenty of guards and soldiers who can go hunt down Henrik!" Brian protested.

As Doctor Helmholtz stepped closer and knelt down, Kai tried to push him back. The dying man clenched his jaw stubbornly. "Incompetent traitors, the lot of them…" he wheezed. "You and Kristoff… _go_! I trust you. If Henrik gets away, thousands die..."

"Kai, think about what you're saying!" Elsa whined, tears glistening in her eyes. "Arendelle won't collapse just because we're a few days late in apprehending Henrik. But you need medical attention _right now_!"

When Kai remained unconvinced, Elsa rose to her full height and looked him straight in the eye. The tender pleading was replaced by a steely command. "Kai, as Queen of Arendelle, I order you to accept this treatment. End of discussion."

"But—" Kai started to protest irresolutely.

"No buts," Elsa interrupted. "I've had enough treason for one week." It was terribly uncharacteristic of Elsa to speak to anyone in such a manner. She never used her title to make anyone yield to her will, instead preferring to win people over through reason and diplomacy. But this was an emergency. _I shouldn't have spoken to him that way. I'll apologize later._

Anna whooped triumphantly. "Yeah sis, you show him who's the boss!"

"Very well," Kai gasped. He could hardly breathe through the pain, as blood continued dribbling down his chin. "Three hours. Not a minute longer. Before Henrik gets away..."

"Three hours? Deal." Brian opened his bag to retrieve his trusty scalpel, and several other strange-looking contraptions. Without another word, the physician got to work; cutting, stitching and suturing at lightning speed. Everyone stood transfixed as they watched. Brian was a true magician at his craft. His fingers and instruments moved so quickly and fluidly, as if they were obeying his thoughts. Yet they never slipped out of place, even by a hair's breadth. Elsa's eyes could barely keep up as he juggled between a dozen bottles of medication at lightning speed and precision. Never did he vacillate or lose track.

Elsa couldn't help smiling, as she felt her downtrodden heart swell with hope. Though the prognosis was bleak, at least Kai had a fighting chance. Brian was truly a miracle worker. How blessed she was to know him not just as a doctor, but also as a friend. Someday, she hoped they could be more.

Seven years ago, as he was retiring, the former royal physician had declared to Adgar, "I'd rather have Brian Helmholtz operate on me through a blindfold, than any other man with perfect sight." Elsa agreed with him one hundred percent.

But nothing was guaranteed. Saving a man's life was no easy task. Elsa's stomach was in knots as she silently excused herself from the hospital ward, and gestured for the others to follow. Anxiety knotted her stomach and sweat ran down her brow, as she tearfully prayed for yet another miracle.

* * *

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles was no stranger to disappointment. His childhood of loneliness and neglect had taught him to never become emotionally attached to anything or anyone. Because all he ever felt was pain, he rid himself of the ability to feel anything at all. He'd lost count of how many times his innocent entreaties for friendship with his brothers had been cruelly denied. How many times his heart had been torn to shreds by their snide comments reiterating his worthlessness. How many times he'd run crying to his nanny, knees scraped and nose bleeding, clutching a broken toy in his trembling fists.

For many years, he had reminisced upon the pain of his past with cold indifference and impassive vengeance. Hardened by his wounds, Hans had adopted a cold and ruthless disposition that left no room for any sliver of humanity. In fact, Hans had forgotten how to grieve. How to feel. How to love.

But Henrik's betrayal had broken through every barrier he'd erected. Betrayal was only possible if it was preceded by love and trust. The deeper the love, the deeper the wounds wrought by its subsequent betrayal. And Henrik was the only person Hans had ever truly loved, after all these years. It was for this reason that Hans lay sprawled on cot in his dungeon cell, with his tears drenching through the mattress.

 _Henrik betrayed me._ Hans repeated silently for the millionth time, still struggling to rationalize what had happened. Confusion and denial clouded his thoughts. _Henrik betrayed me. Henrik never cared about me at all. Henrik was only pretending to be my friend._ Tears continued streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed violently and wished he could disappear.

The jingling of keys in the door caught his attention. Hans quickly tried to compose himself and hide all evidence of his emotional meltdown. With fumbling fingers and flailing limbs, he stuffed the mucus-drenched sheets out of sight, desperately trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.

The door swung open. Hans silently cursed his rotten luck, as Elsa stepped gracefully into the cell. _Great. The last person I wanted to see._

"What do you want, Frosty?" Hans growled with as much edge as he could manage. But his reddened nose and puffy eyes revealed the vulnerability within.

Elsa took a deep breath and seated herself opposite of him. "I feel sorry for you, Hans," she whispered.

Hans raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You do?"

Elsa nodded, her eyes thoughtful and somber. "You sold yourself out to a world of lies. You put your faith in the wrong things, and it destroyed you."

 _You put your faith in the wrong things._ Those words resonated sharply. No truer statement had ever been spoken. In fact, those words were not merely pointing out his acts of folly, but they were denouncing his entire lifestyle. Hans hadn't simply made mistakes. His entire life had been a mistake. His entire life had been spent in mindless idolatry of someone who only pretended to love him.

Hans felt his stomach clench. "That lying, backstabbing traitor! I'll kill him! He lied to me!"

Elsa leaned in closer, resting her elbows on her knees. "We tried to warn you, Hans. We told you that following Henrik would be your downfall. That night we spoke, I was really hoping you would listen before it was too late. If you turned away from Henrik, we could've helped you find a job and a home here in Arendelle. You could make a new life for yourself, outside of your brother's shadow."

"You can still do that!" Hans pleaded. "Look, I'm sorry! I'll be good from now on, I promise!"

For several minutes, all was silent. Elsa stared wordlessly at the cold concrete floor, lost in her thoughts. Finally, she spoke.

"Hans, Kai is dying right now."

"Wait, what?" Hans was only half-listening, as he began once again drowning in the misery and heartbreak of Henrik's betrayal.

"Kai is dying," Elsa repeated softly, both eyes welling with tears. Her heart crumbled to pieces as that dreaded realization dawned upon her. "You kicked him in the stomach, stomped on his chest, and now he is coughing up blood and can hardly breathe. He was my dearest friend, and practically a second father to me."

"Henrik made me do it!" Hans protested.

Elsa shook her head. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with anger. "Hans, you're a grown man with free will. You made your own decisions, and now you must pay the price."

"No, you don't understand! It's not my fault! Henrik tricked me!" Hans whined. "Please, I beg you, don't kill me! Give me one more chance! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

As Elsa saw the tears glistening in Hans' eyes and heard the pain in his voice, sympathy flooded her heart. Though Hans had behaved despicably, she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. After all these years, he was still that frightened little boy who was so desperate for companionship, he was willing to associate with anyone, and became easy prey to evil influences. She thought of three year-old Hans being tricked into eating rodent droppings. Five year-old Hans being beaten into a pulp. Seven year-old Hans being forced to eat spoiled food, until his tiny body exploded with vomit and diarrhea. Elsa's heart ached for that poor, downtrodden child who had grown up deprived of love. Hans had clung to Henrik out of a desperate and sincere desire for the love he had never known… only to have the door of betrayal slammed in his face yet again.

"I accept your apology, Hans," Elsa responded softly. "And I forgive you."

Hans' heart leapt in excitement. "You do?"

The blonde nodded dolefully, her bright sapphire eyes brimming with tears. "I can forgive you for everything you've done to me. However, I can't let you go without consequences."

"No!" Hans sobbed. He dropped to his knees and clutched at the hem of her dress. "I was so blind, so stupid. I was wrong to follow Henrik! Please, give me another chance, and I'll prove it to you! I can change!" _  
_

Elsa's heart broke for the poor wretched man who was now pleading for mercy on bended knee. Gone was the cocky, swaggering Hans that she knew. The thirteenth Prince had been reduced into a blubbering, incoherent coward. It was a piteous scene. But she had to remain firm.

"Hans, if you truly are sorry, you would understand why we can't let you off. Half of our population was nearly killed because of you and your brother. People will be traumatized for life. You had a million chances to turn around and leave Henrik, but you didn't. You also chose to murder an innocent man." Elsa swallowed hard and willed herself to speak. "I was hoping to never go through an execution during my reign… but that is the penalty for murder."

"No, please!" Hans wailed. "You can't do this to me! Henrik, my brother, my flesh and blood… whom I loved more than anyone in the world, betrayed me and left me to die. Haven't I been punished enough already?"

Elsa found herself at a loss for words. Part of her wanted to wipe his tears, hold him tight, erase the scars of the past, and tell him that everything was all right. But everything was not all right. Justice had to be served. Though she could truthfully declare that she had forgiven him, and harbored no more hatred or bitterness towards Hans, the time for leniency had run out. The man crucified with Christ repented as he was dying, and received forgiveness for all his sins. But although his soul was saved, his life was not. He could not escape his crucifixion. That was the just reward for his crimes on earth. Forgiveness did not preclude justice.

"I'm sorry," Elsa whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I wish it didn't have to come to this. I was going to spare you… but you crossed the line by murdering Kai in cold blood. Now you must pay the price."

Elsa turned to leave the cell. "Good-bye, Hans. May God forgive you… and show you the love and acceptance that you couldn't find on earth."

As Elsa rounded the corner and stepped out of sight sight, her back hit the wall and she sank to the ground. The raw emotion was overwhelming. Ever since she learned the truth about Henrik, she had known this day would come. The day Hans finally realized that in his quest for power and riches, he had gambled away his humanity. The day Hans finally realized that his love for Henrik was based on false pretenses. The day when Hans would weep bitter tears of remorse. How she wished that Hans had seen the truth, before it was too late!

Finally, she could handle it no more. Elsa buried her face between both knees, and wept for Hans.

 **More to come! Stay tuned…**


	29. How the Mighty Have Fallen

**Merry Christmas, everyone!**

 **All done with work! Here is the latest turn of events. Sorry this chapter isn't too heavy on Frosty/Brian fluff, but I wanted to take care of Henrik first before we move further with their relationship. But I promise that a Happily Ever After is on the horizon!**

 **Warning: Some scenes of graphic violence. I've made a point to scale back on these and omit such scenes from future stories, but I figured I'd make an exception for Henrik. **

**Question:** **Do you feel sorry for Hans at all after the last chapter? Please answer in your review!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 29:**

Several hours of laborious, nailbiting operations had elapsed, by the time the ordeal was finally over. Surgical instruments lay in a heap on a nearby tray, surrounded by several empty bottles of medication. Among them included a painkiller of the doctor's own invention—the Nobel Prize-winning concoction he had devised nearly three years ago. The nearby vicinity of the floor was an indecipherable heap of crumpled towels soaked in blood, bile and lymph. A strong fetid stench permeated the entire room. The nurses grimaced as they tentatively stepped in to clean up the mess.

Doctor Helmholtz lingered nearby, bent over double in exhaustion. His brow was soaked in sweat, and both hands were crusted with dried blood up to his elbows. His heart was still pounding, and fingers still trembling from the nerve-wracking ordeal. But the royal physician was beaming from ear to ear.

He had done it. Kai was going to live. The poor man had suffered massive internal bleeding in the wake of his assault; had blood and interstitial fluid leaking into his lungs from dozens of ruptured arteries and brutally lacerated tissues. Most importantly, his promise to Elsa had been fulfilled. He promised to save her loved one, and he had. And Brian _never_ wanted to see a cloud of sadness or disappointment on her beautiful face again.

After a few minutes, Kai finally grew strong enough to open his eyes. The portly older man laid a tentative hand over his chest and took several irresolute breaths. Fresh, clean air flowed through his lungs unimpeded. Kai hesitated before gingerly stepping out of bed, clinging tightly to Brian's hand for support.

Elsa finally found the strength to speak. "How are you feeling, Kai?" Her voice was raw and scratchy from lack of use.

The red-haired man smiled. "I feel great." He was still slightly foggy from the sedatives, and it would take at least a month before he was fully recovered. But he could at least breathe with only a slight amount of pain. Never in his wildest fantasies did he imagine ever feeling this way again.

Tears flowed freely from Elsa's bright blue orbs as she hugged Kai tightly in one arm, and Brian in the other. "You saved him. I knew you could do it," she whispered. "I love you, my hero. My strong, brave, selfless knight in shining armor…"

Brian dabbed her eyes with his handkerchief. "The true hero is you, snowflake. I saved one man. You saved the whole kingdom." He pulled Elsa against his chest and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Instantly, his cheeks flushed and his stomach fluttered wildly. Brian's voice cracked as he spoke. "Don't ever do that to me again, love. When I saw you on the North Mountain, frozen like that… I thought I lost you forever..."

Elsa smiled into his eyes. "I want to show you something." He watched in silent, tentative confusion as Elsa took his hand and laid it gently over her chest. Beneath his palm, her heart beat steady and powerful. Alive forevermore with love's strong current. "You feel that? I'm alive. It's going to be okay, Brian."

"I hate to disrupt the little reunion," Kristoff interjected. "But Henrik isn't going to capture himself."

At these words, Kai instantly brushed Elsa aside and his gaze hardened. Doctor Helmholtz rushed forward to push him back. "Kai, that was a very delicate operation. We can't have you making sudden movements like—"

But Kai blatantly ignored him, as he jabbed vigorously at the grandfather clock leaning against a nearby wall. "It's been six hours! Henrik could have fled the kingdom already! Go!"

* * *

 _Some time later…_

The sun had set by the time Kristoff, Brian, and their entourage of guards reached the mountain pass where Henrik had last been spotted. Visibility was poor and the cold was brutal. Fortunately, with Kristoff's knowledge of the terrain, they were able to move quickly.

"We're too late. He must have made it across the border by now," the Captain of the Guard grumbled, as the horses splashed through a half-frozen creek and plodded along yet another stretch of road.

The ice master chewed vigorously on a carrot. "Henrik brought no food, no water, no cloak, and no horse. Head start or not, he couldn't have gone far. We aren't going back until we find him."

"When we find that man, I'll kill him!" Brian threatened through clenched teeth.

"Not if I get my hands on him first," Kristoff growled back.

Brian opened his mouth to retaliate, when a loud snort from Sven interrupted him. Both men jumped at the sudden outburst.

Kristoff patted his scruffy brown fur. "What is it, boy?"

The reindeer's ears twitched, and his eyes flickered back and forth for several seconds. He sniffed and pawed intently at the moist dirt, before turning sideways and bolting frantically in a seemingly aimless direction.

Kristoff grabbed wildly at the reins to barely avoid being flung off. "Hey, watch it!" he protested indignantly. But as the ice master flailed his arms, the lantern dangling from his fingers flashed through the air in a golden arc, and managed to illuminate a dark shadow moving through the trees. Kristoff quickly steadied himself and held the lantern out at arm's length. He peered intently through the dense foliage.

A twig snapped and leaves rustled. Then the silhouette of a large man darted across his field of vision, and vanished behind a mound of snow. Sven snorted loudly and darted forward, in vigorous pursuit of the fleeing form.

"There!" Kristoff shouted furiously, thrusting his finger. "Five o'clock position!"

A stray beam of moonlight fell across the figure's path, briefly illuminating his face. There was no mistaking the rust-colored sideburns or the scruffy beard. "That's him, all right!" Brian shouted, pulling his horse around. "Get him!" Henrik continued to run, but not fast enough. Ice crunched beneath his feet as he darted across the frozen terrain. Closer and closer they converged, until Brian could nearly see the whites of his eyes. They were gaining on him.

But Henrik wasn't about to admit defeat. He quickly changed his trajectory and began clambering up a vertical rocky crag. Higher and higher he climbed, until no man could follow him on horseback. Ten feet… fifteen feet…

"Oh no, you don't!" Kristoff roared. He seized a large block of ice and hurled it at the face of the cliff, striking a spot several meters above Henrik's head. A cascade of snow, dirt and pebbles rained down. Henrik lost his grip and clawed furiously at the air for a split second, before plummeting straight down into the snow. Swearing under his breath, Henrik dusted off his trousers before standing. Pure venom radiated from his green eyes, and his lips twisted into a hateful sneer as he beheld his pursuers.

"Game over, Henrik!" Brian snapped. "You're coming with us right now."

"Yeah?" Henrik challenged. "Since when did anyone take orders from Lard Butt? I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you. Have you forgotten what happened the last time you tried to be assertive?"

"That's not going to work anymore!" The royal physician barked back. "Lard Butt is a thing of the past. It's who I used to be, but it's no longer who I am. I've put it behind me. It's a shame that _you're_ the one who hasn't made one bit of progress in thirteen years."

"Aw, how touching," Henrik sneered. "But what about your dear Frosty… has she put it behind her?"

"Enough!" Brian roared. But he was visibly shaken by those cruel, cutting words. "I've had it with your emotional blackmail!" He drew his sword and lunged forward, but Henrik easily moved to parry the blow. Violent shockwaves reverberated through the steel, jarring both men to their core.

Henrik spun around to deflect an attack from Kristoff, knocking his weapon to the ground. The King of the Southern Isles was an incredibly talented swordsman. Even in the heat of the battle, he continued to run his mouth. "You did this to yourself, Lard Butt. Think of all the poor innocent people who were hacked into millions of bloody shreds—all because you couldn't learn your place. It's too bad you weren't there to hear your old man screaming like a little girl as we roasted him on a spit. Or your mother squealing like a pig—"

"Shut up!" Kristoff snarled. "Or I'll cut that tongue right out of your mouth!"

"Then you fled the country like a little sissy, and left everyone else to suffer for what you did. Imagine that! While other people were dying because of your choices, you were living it up and playing doctor. Then you spent thirteen years pretending it never happened. My, what a brave and valiant man you are!"

Brian furiously opened his mouth to retaliate, but no words came out. His cheeks were beet-red and his heart palpitated with all the speed and vigor of a high-powered rifle. Pure, unmitigated rage clouded his vision as he picked up a large rock and hurled it at Henrik's head. The King of the Southern Isles easily dodged aside, and the rock buried itself into a tree trunk. "You throw like a girl! What are you gonna do next, Lard Butt? Hit me with your purse? Throw your snot-covered tissues at me?"

"Mate, snap out of it!" Kristoff shouted. "Don't pay attention to anything he says!"

Henrik slapped his thigh and cackled uproariously. "And you still think you have a chance with the wonderful, perfect Frosty? You think she'll want to share her throne with a man who once got his own kingdom destroyed? Just imagine, _King Lard Butt of Arendelle_ changing his name and appearance, crapping his pants, then fleeing the country at the first sign of trouble!"

As Henrik continued to prattle, he was temporarily distracted. Brian saw his chance. He lunged forward and stabbed at Henrik's right eye, blinding him in a torrential spurt of blood. Henrik roared in pain and swung wildly, slicing Brian's arm from wrist to elbow. The doctor fell to the ground in an agonized heap, clutching at a foot-long bloody gash. As Henrik paused for a brief respite, Kristoff's ice pick sank into his shoulder. But the ruby-handled sword of the Southern Isles struck out again, slashing the blond man across the stomach and thigh.

* * *

The battle continued to rage on for another two minutes, but it felt like an hour. All three men were streaming with blood and near the end of their strength. But fatigue took its heaviest toll on Henrik, who had been fighting on two fronts. The eldest Westergard knew that if the fight continued, it was only a matter of time before his younger opponents wore him down. He had to escape.

In a desperate final bid, Henrik flung a massive fistful of snow into Kristoff and Brian's faces, buying himself a few seconds. Then he turned to flee, stumbling awkwardly across the snow. Flecks of blood trailed through the air behind him as he ran. "This isn't over!" Henrik bellowed vigorously. But the edge in his voice was weakening, as his injuries began taking their toll.

"You're a pathetic man, Brian Helmholtz. Always were, and always will be. You were destined to be a loser from the day you were born. The sooner you learn to respect your superiors—"

But whatever Henrik was going to say, they would never find out. In that instant, Henrik slipped against a patch of ice and lost his footing. He thrashed about wildly, trying to regain leverage, but rolled over a snow bank and slid out of sight. Brian rushed to apprehend him, until Kristoff threw out an arm to hold him back. Both men crept forward cautiously, until they arrived at the edge of a precipice, and glanced down uneasily.

Henrik had fallen into a ravine and landed awkwardly amongst a cluster of barren trees. The auburn-haired man cursed and spat as he gingerly clambered to his feet, before crashing back to the ground. One leg was clearly broken, as he lay sprawled across the snow.

The group of guards who had accompanied Brian and Kristoff arrived on scene. Everyone watched as Henrik rolled over and attempted to sit. An eerie howl rang out in the distance. Henrik groped about for his weapon… only to realize that he had left it behind in his hasty escape.

Another howl resonated through the vast expanses of open space, joined by several others. Then came a low, menacing growl. Closer and closer they came, until two gleaming yellow pinpricks of light emerged from the dense undergrowth, hardly a stone's throw away from Henrik.

Wolves.

Henrik must have realized what was going on, as he instinctively bolted upright and attempted to scale a tree. But his incapacitated leg instantly sent him crashing back to the ground, powerless to escape.

Several wolves emerged from behind the bushes. Their eyes burned with savage lust, and saliva hung from their fangs in slippery stalactites. As their leader emitted another sharp howl, the wolves sprang forward and descended upon their helpless quarry. A large black wolf clamped its jaw around Henrik's arm, jerking and tugging vigorously until the bone was ripped loose from its socket with a sickening crunch. Strings of lacerated muscle tissue, intermittently embedded with bony fragments, dangled from the open wound like large earthworms. Henrik thrashed about desperately and his screams echoed violently for several miles, loud enough to bring down an avalanche. But his assailants were not deterred in the least.

Another wolf bit into his thigh, puncturing the femoral artery and soaking the snow with a veritable ocean of crimson. A third wolf had its snout buried in his stomach, and was tearing out his intestines through a huge gaping hole in his belly. Loud, slurping sounds could be heard as the wolf chewed ravenously on Henrik's innards, sending blood and pus dribbling down its jowls.

Slowly, Henrik's cries weakened and he struggled no more. After several tense seconds of snapping jaws, slobbering tongues, and all the macabre sounds of a man being torn apart limb by limb… all was silent. King Henrik of the Southern Isles was no more than a bloodstain upon the snow. Slowly, the men averted their eyes and turned back. Their mission was complete.

Kristoff was hunched over, both hands on his knees, panting heavily. His cloak was stained with blood and dirt, and his blond locks hung in sweat-soaked tendrils. "I promised myself I would kill that man…"

Brian nodded grimly, equally exhausted. The physician winced in agony as a sharp spasm of pain jolted through his lacerated arm. "Me too. From the moment he arrived in Arendelle, I made it my life's mission to rid the world of Henrik…" While Brian was certainly relieved that Henrik was gone, never again to torment another living soul, his victory felt strangely incomplete and unsatisfying.

The ice harvester's ruddy face broke into a smile, as he picked up Henrik's fallen sword and tucked it into his bag. "But don't you see what this means, Doc? This outcome has spared us of any argument. Arendelle is at peace, and that evil man will never wreak havoc in our lives again. We have won, my friend!"

"My friend and my brother." The two men shared a strong embrace. One a rugged outdoorsman, coarse and unrefined, hardened by the elements and forged in the harsh tundra. The other a polished intellectual who had blazed his trail through cutthroat competition in the ivory tower. But they were united by a common goal that transcended all personal differences. Men who had gone to war together were brothers. Together they had risked life and limb to defeat the pernicious forces of evil, which had threatened to destroy everything they held dear. Together they had plunged into the deepest abyss of darkness, and together they rose victorious.

Love and hope had prevailed over greed and treachery. The hateful curse had been lifted from the land; dissipated into nothingness as the summer sun banishing a winter storm, or a glowing lamp driving away the darkness of night. Arendelle was a nation built upon a legacy of heroes. Brave men and women who loved country more than self; who chose what was right over what was easy.

Brian and Kristoff slowly mounted their steeds and turned back into the forest, to rejoin the rest of the guards and soldiers. The ice master turned to address his companion. "What are you going to do now?"

"The night is still young," Brian replied, beaming from ear to ear. "There is still time for me to give Elsa the best birthday she's ever had, and make her the happiest girl alive."

Kristoff laughed jovially as he passed Henrik's sword to Brian, and dipped his head in a small but reverent bow. "Better late than never."

 **Yes, it's still December 21 in this story! It's too bad I couldn't get it out on the actual date. Stay tuned for more!**


	30. Pinky Promise

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 29. Looking back, you guys were absolutely right that the lung transplant was far too unrealistic to be convincing. That has been revised.  
**

 **The reason I had Kai suffer a mortal wound, was because I felt something drastic was necessary in order to harden Elsa's resolve in having Hans executed. But I also wanted him to make a miraculous recovery, because killing him would ruin the happy ending. Also, it would make Elsa reconsider her decision to execute Hans. That would make for a more complex and interesting resolution.**

 **I changed Ch29 to reduce Kai's injuries to flesh wounds with only moderate internal organ damage. That way we can achieve the same outcome without being far too unrealistic.**

 **I also shortened the fight portion after Henrik got stabbed. There's no way he could get up and continue fighting for more than a minute or two (on a serious adrenaline rush) after such an injury.**

 **Warning:** **mentions of suicide**

 **Happy New Year, and enjoy Chapter 30!**

Elsa was sound asleep on the velvety couch of the castle library, her eyes glued shut and her body a lump of lead. The past week had been a whirlwind of angst and turmoil for the beleaguered Snow Queen. Now all she wanted was a little bit of normalcy; to return to the innocent and peaceful days she had enjoyed before the Westergards had intruded upon her world.

Unfortunately, a rather disturbing nightmare rendered her wish futile.

 _She was stumbling through the empty streets towards the outskirts of the kingdom, leaving a trail of blood with every step she took. Behind her, ten thousand angry voices screamed for her death. Clutching at a stitch in her chest, she forged onwards. As Elsa turned another corner, she spotted Brian in the distance. Hope flickered in her cold, dying heart. She picked up her pace and ran towards him with arms outstretched. "Brian! It's me, Elsa!"_

 _But as she came closer, her joy evaporated just as quickly. There was not the slightest trace of warmth in his expression. The doctor's light gray eyes were as cold and indifferent as a stormy sky. She had been hoping and expecting a comforting hug, but received nothing of the sort. Without a word, Brian grabbed Elsa roughly by the shoulders and flung her to the ground._

 _Elsa rolled over, gasping with pain as she struggled to sit. "Brian, what's going on? I don't understand…" Her voice was faint and distant. There was a heartrending vulnerability in her eyes, much like that of an abused child or abandoned puppy._

 _Brian clenched his jaw "I think you know exactly what's going on here." He drew his sword and pointed its lethal tip straight at Elsa's heart._

 _The blonde began to panic. "Brian, what's happening? Why are you doing this?"_

 _Doctor Helmholtz spoke in a voice that was not his own. Every syllable dripped with pure venom and hatred. "You vile, disgusting little monster. Your sister died for you, and this is how you repay her? By striking down Arendelle with yet ANOTHER act of black sorcery?" He slammed his foot viciously into Elsa's stomach, rupturing her spleen and causing her to vomit blood all over her tattered dress._

 _Tears streamed down Elsa's cheeks and dripped into the puddle of blood. "Oh no, please... not you too, Brian..."_

 _Brian jabbed Elsa in the chest with the tip of his sword. Instantly, she straightened up and tried unsuccessfully to suppress her sniveling._

 _"Brian, you have to believe me! I would never do this! It was Henrik, remember? Formula XIV… You figured it out, like the brilliant doctor and scientist that you are."_

 _The royal physician was not the least bit moved by her pitiful entreaties. "Flattery will get you nowhere, witch. I suppose Henrik froze Anna and Kristoff's hearts too?"  
_

 _"No!" Elsa screamed desperately. "I didn't freeze anyone! Those ARE just ice sculptures!"_

 _Brian drew back his spare hand, and delivered a stinging slap across her mouth. "Liar! Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You swore a sacred oath to protect and serve this kingdom, and now look at what you've done! How could you betray us all?"_

 _Elsa was crying hysterically by now, and could barely speak as she choked on her own tears and mucus. "Brian, please! Why won't you believe me? I love my sister, and Kristoff, and *sniff* and I love you too. I… I would sooner die than do something… something l-like this. If it were possible, *sniff* I would die to lift this curse..."  
_

 _"And die you shall. I'm sorry, Elsa. But you have committed your last act of treason against Arendelle." The doctor inhaled deeply, his face taut with anger._

 _His cruel words crushed her spirit and drained her will to fight. Elsa could do little more than offer up one last feeble plea. "Brian, please... You've always been there for me. You know me... You know I would never do this."_

 _Brian turned his face away, breaking all eye contact. "Elsa, I don't even know you."_

" _Brian please, I love you…"_

 _There was no sympathy in his countenance—only cold, heartless indifference. "Oh Elsa, what do you know about love?" His muscles tensed as he prepared to drive the sword through her heart._

"NOOOOO!" Elsa screamed in terror as she bolted upright in bed, blasting ice all over the room. Her heart was pounding like a drum, and rivers of sweat streamed down her pale, clammy skin. The dream had been so real.

Brian was immediately by her side, watching her with utmost concern. "Elsa! Are you all right?" His arm was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages from wrist to elbow, and sharp spasms of pain reverberated through his body with every movement. But he hardly noticed.

Visions of the nightmare still clouded Elsa's mind. All she could see still were Brian's hateful eyes and vindictive words. Completely galvanized by panic and terror, ice exploded from Elsa's palm. "Leave me alone!" she shrieked.

Brian ducked as a streak of ice missed his ear by inches. "Elsa, it's me!"

"I'm innocent!" Elsa screeched furiously to no one in particular, her eyes still wild with pandemonium. "You have to believe me!"

As Brian tentatively reached forward, Elsa's fist swung out and connected with his cheek. "Stop it! I hate you! How could you not believe me?"

The doctor grabbed two handfuls of ice and doused Elsa in the face. "Elsa, wake up! It's over! Henrik is dead, Arendelle is at peace, and nobody is hunting you down."

Slowly, Elsa began to calm down, though she continued trembling all over. The sheets were drenched with cold sweat, and ice continued to linger on the walls of the room. It took several minutes of heavy, laborious breathing before Elsa finally regained her senses. "A dream," she repeated breathlessly. "Only a dream." But her eyes continued to flicker uneasily, and she remained wary of his touch.

Brian wrapped her into a loving embrace, and cradled her head against his chest. "Elsa, listen to me. You're a good person, and you have a heart of gold. You've spent your whole life sacrificing your own needs for those around you. For thirteen years you did it for Anna, and every moment after you've done it for the whole kingdom. Someone would have to be deaf, blind, and insane to doubt your goodness. But now the insanity is over. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Elsa's voice came in a soft mumble. "Brian, I know for as long as I live, I'll always have to deal with the stigma and scrutiny that comes with my powers. And I'm at peace with it." Her voice cracked and her bright blue eyes filled with tears, as images from the nightmare began flaring up in her mind again. Elsa shuddered and turned away, not daring to look Brian in the eye. As if he might revile her. "I can live with anyone thinking poorly of me. But just the thought of you hating me… calling me a witch… not believing in me…"

The tears ran freely. "I love you, Brian. I've loved you ever since that day you took care of me, after Hans hurt me. If you ever turned against me, I don't know what I would do…"

Brian held a finger to her lips. "Enough of that talk, Elsa. I never doubted you for a moment. The whole world can turn against you, but I will never stop believing in you. The day I call you a witch is the day I cut my tongue off. I would climb every mountain, cross every ocean, and fight every Westergard to the death if that's what stands between me and my precious Frosty. We were meant to be together, and now we shall be."

Elsa tilted her head and glanced up timidly but hopefully. "Promise?"

The royal physician wrapped his pinky around hers. The silken texture of her skin felt heavenly against his fingers. Softer than a downy pillow, and more tender than a rose pedal in spring. "I promise."

For the first time in forever, Elsa smiled. Not the rueful grimace or tentative half-grin of one who dared to hope, but a true heartfelt smile that could have warmed the coldest cavern of the North Mountain. A smile that glowed like a beacon through the blackest depths of a man's heart. Brian couldn't hold back a tear. For far too long she had been trapped in the long, bitter struggle against the deleterious forces of evil that threatened to kill and destroy all she held dear. For far too long she had trod the paths of misery and suffering. No one deserved to be happy more than Elsa. Now she could finally find the joy and peace that was so long overdue.

"Thank you, Brian. That means a lot to me."

Brian reached into his pocket to retrieve a single wrapped truffle. Dark chocolate with strawberry filling. One of Elsa's favorites. His eyes glowed with warmth and affection as he laid the bite-sized confection in her hand. "Happy birthday, Elsa."

The blonde's face lit up in the most adorably childlike fashion. "You remembered!" she squealed with delight. Elsa was wise beyond her years, navigating through the treacherous waters of politics and negotiations with all the astuteness of a seasoned statesman twice her age. Her childhood ended at age eight, and she had endured more pain than most people would in a thousand lifetimes. But she could be so girlish at times, as if she hadn't aged a minute from the day she built her first snowman. There was a heartwarming sweetness about her.

"It's not much," Brian sighed. At these words, he became increasingly melancholic. He clenched his jaw and seemed near tears, as he continued dissecting their present reality. "I don't mean to be so negative, but this hasn't exactly been a happy birthday. We almost lost you, and we almost lost Kai. Then I could hardly stand my ground against Henrik, even when we had him outnumbered ten to one. You should have seen what a sniveling coward I was against him! And now I don't even have a proper gift for you…"

Elsa paused to let these words sink in. Though she took no pleasure in Henrik's demise, she knew that there would be no peace as long as he was still alive. But even his memory had left indelible scars upon Brian's self-image. Doctor Helmholtz may have been the world's finest physician, but he was also an extremely vulnerable human being. His heart was wounded in a way that no medicine could heal.

But she was going to try.

"Brian," she began tentatively, her voice thick with emotion. "You already gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for."

The royal physician eyed her in bewilderment. "I did?"

Elsa patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. This time, it was her turn to tear up. "I lost all hope. As I lay dying in the wilderness, freezing from the inside out, I had no will to go on... until I saw you coming back for me. When I saw you rushing towards me with arms open wide… you made me want to live again."

She clasped his hands tightly. "Brian, how can you say you didn't have a gift for me? You gave me love. You gave me hope. The strength to face tomorrow."

Brian planted a soft kiss on the top of her head. "I love you too, Elsa. As long as I'm here, you will never spend another birthday alone."

* * *

Elsa's heart pounded and her mind raced wildly as she descended the stairs towards the dungeons. She absolutely detested the dungeons, and hoped to never make this journey again for as long as she lived. But it had to be done.

 _I owe it to him,_ she whispered silently. _Kai survived, and I must be true to my word.  
_

Conflicting ideas continued to war against each other. Elsa clenched her teeth and prayed for the strength to continue. _Of course, justice must still be served. Perhaps twelve, fifteen years of hard labor… followed by counseling once his debt is paid. Rehabilitation over vengeance has always been our philosophy, and I cannot let my emotions sway my judgment._ _Two dying men can be given another chance at life today._

"Hans?" she called out softly. Her voice echoed through the cavernous depths of the dungeons.

She strained her ear, but heard nothing. The dungeons remained deathly silent, aside from the hoarse grunt of a guard acknowledging her as he passed by.

Elsa continued walking down the cellblock, towards where the thirteenth Prince was stationed. "Hans?" This time, she heard faint sounds of crying and cursing and ripping fabric emanating from afar. As she rounded the corner and glanced into his cell, her heart stopped at a most shocking sight.

Though it had been hardly a day since she last saw him, Hans had become disheveled beyond recognition. His face was sallow, his eyes bloodshot and lifeless, and puddles of blood and vomit were spattered all over the walls. But what alarmed her most was the strange contraption that hung from the ceiling. A string of haphazardly torn bedsheets were tied together to form a noose. Underneath was a stack of chairs. As she watched, Hans lifted a trembling foot and began to climb.

"Hans, what are you doing?" Elsa demanded.

"Leave me!" Hans sobbed, avoiding all eye contact as his head hung low. Never in a million years could Elsa have imagined the proud, haughty Prince Hans reduced to a such a pitiful state. "You win, Snow Queen. Happy now? I've lost my title, my kingdom, and the only friend I've ever had! Can't a man at least die with some dignity?"

Elsa swallowed hard. "Hans—"

"I know what you're going to say!" Hans' words exploded hot and angry, as tears continued gushing down his cheeks. "Henrik was never really my friend. Henrik never loved me. Don't you think I know that already? Why do you have to rub it in? Don't you have anything better to do?"

The blonde fought back tears as she continued. "Hans, I'm going to spare you. Kai survived. We're going to give you another chance. It doesn't have to end like this."

The silence was almost palpable in the wake of this startling revelation. Elsa bit her nails as she watched Hans intently. How would he respond? Could this man's long, ugly, torturous life story somehow end on a positive chapter?

"Forget it!" Hans howled miserably as he continued ascending the stack of chairs and benches. "I have nothing left to live for! Henrik was the only person who ever loved me, but he betrayed me!" Hans climbed higher and reached for the rope.

"Hans, think of your mother!" Elsa pleaded. "She died so that you could live. How would she feel if she saw you right now, throwing your life away for someone who never had your best interests at heart? Haven't you followed Henrik for long enough already?"

"I don't care!" Hans wailed. Rivers of tears and mucus hung from his chin and dripped down his shirt. "I loved Henrik more than anyone in the world! All I ever wanted was for him to love me back! All I ever wanted was for Henrik to be proud of me! I tried so hard to win his approval, but nothing was ever enough. I'm worthless! _Worthless!_ " By now, Hans had climbed about eight feet off the ground, and was beginning to wrap the noose around his neck.

Elsa shot a vigorous blast of ice at the dungeon door, trying to force it open. "Hans, stop! Don't do this to yourself!" But Hans only continued to wail and blubber and drown in his misery.

Finally, the door was open. Elsa hurriedly stepped over piles of ice and concrete debris, making her way into the cell. "Hans, wait—

 _Crack!_

The rope pulled taut, and a loud popping sound reverberated throughout the cell as his neck snapped backwards. When Elsa glanced up, Hans was dangling lifelessly from the ceiling, eyes dulled in death and tongue drooping sideways out of his mouth. His head of matted auburn hair lolled off to the side as he continued swaying back and forth like a pendulum.

It was too late. Elsa fell to her knees, overcome with emotion.

Two guards who had heard the ruckus arrived on scene. The first man helped Elsa to her feet, while the other quickly got to work loosening Hans from his confines. He bowed curtly. "What shall we do with the prisoner, Your Majesty?"

Elsa averted her gaze, unable to look. Part of her was relieved that Hans was gone, but still she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. She felt sickened and traumatized by watching a man die before her very eyes—even though that man was an enemy of Arendelle. The image of his lifeless corpse dangling from the ceiling, with swollen bloodshot eyes rolling into the back of his head, would stay with her forever. Elsa struggled to stand.

"Bury him in an unmarked grave, behind the chapel." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. "Be gentle with him."

One of the guards gave a low, mirthless chuckle as he moved forward to retrieve the limp carcass which, just days ago, was a proud and haughty man in the prime of life. "It's crazy, isn't it? Pompous, arrogant, swaggering Prince Hans of the Southern Isles ending his own life like that?" His companion merely grunted in assent, as the two men hoisted Hans' body away.

Soon Elsa was alone again. She gave a wistful sigh and knelt down, tracing her fingers across the barren concrete floor. A crumpled white glove lay forlornly in the dust, forever forgotten. She picked it up and gently dusted it off, before laying it on a nearby bench.

"Hans' life didn't end tonight. It ended the moment he gave his heart to Henrik."

 **Thank you for reading! More to come soon. There will be one more major hurdle in Brian and Elsa's relationship, but it'll be all Fluff after that!**


	31. Henrik Jr

**I'm so sorry it's been almost a month since the last update. I've been so busy with school and work recently, that I didn't really had the time to write. But I will do everything to keep the regular updates going! We are coming closer and closer to Happily Ever After!**

 **Chapter 31:**

 _Three days later…_

Elsa and Brian were seated at opposite ends of the library table, engaged in a fierce but friendly battle of chess, when Gerda appeared in the doorway. She dipped into a curtsy. "Elsa sweetie, you have a visitor from the Southern Isles."

The blonde visibly grimaced, as the teacup she was holding was instantly encased in a shell of ice. "Thank you, Gerda." she responded politely. "But I'm afraid I must decline. I'm really not in the mood to see anyone from the Southern Isles right now."

Gerda smiled ruefully at the agitated young woman whom she had taken care of since infancy. How she wanted to set Elsa in her lap as if she were three years old again… brush back her platinum blonde tresses, and warm her heart with fairy tales and pipe fantasies of Happily Ever After! But gone were the days of blissful naiveté. Just in the past week alone, the poor girl had suffered enough trauma to turn anyone into a basket case. She may have escaped with her life and sanity intact, but only a tremendous amount of love and patience could even begin to heal the scars upon her beautiful, gentle soul. "He says it's urgent."

"No!" Brian declared forcefully, slapping his hands down on the table. "We're through with those Westergards!"

Gerda sighed. She knew the demons that lay in his past. Everyone did by now. After thirteen years of carefully shrouding his personal life in obscurity, Brian had catapulted into the public arena with his courtship of the Snow Queen. The man had also come clean to the world about his tumultuous history. After thirteen torturous years, he had finally made peace with his past and forgiven himself for all that had happened. Gone forever was the cowardly, insecure impostor once known as Lard Butt. Here to stay was Doctor Brian Helmholtz—the most accomplished physician in the world, and the soon-to-be King of Arendelle.

Most importantly, he was the missing piece of Frosty's heart.

"Doctor Helmholtz sir, the visitor is not one of the Southern Isles Princes. There is a gentleman downstairs who is very contrite and apologetic, and wishes only for a chance to make restitution on behalf of his kingdom."

Elsa set down her piece and took Brian gently by the hand. "We'd better go, then."

* * *

When Elsa and Brian arrived in the throne room, awaiting them was a tall, straight-backed man in an admiral's uniform. Anna, Kristoff and Kai were already gathered around the table awaiting them. Though the strange man appeared to be seventy years old, his advanced age did little to detract from his strong posture and dignified stance. In his younger days, he must have been quite an imposing character. But as he locked eyes with Elsa, and then Brian in turn, his stolid complexion cracked and he dropped to one knee.

"Your Majesty," he bowed deeply. "My name is Lawrence, Chief Royal Advisor of the Southern Isles. But you may call me Larry. Words cannot express the depths of my sorrow over what has happened. This is an unmitigated disaster, and today I am ashamed to be a citizen of the Southern Isles. I am here today because I know that you are a kind and merciful Queen, and I pray that you will give peace a chance."

Elsa nodded stiffly, and spoke with great sorrow. "We are indeed a nation that believes in reconciliation over vengeance. It is my hope as well that the anomalies of the past three years will not negate the centuries of peace that have prevailed between our kingdoms. But please understand that the Southern Isles has pushed us to the very limits of tolerance and reasonability. Wars have been fought over less. _Sorry_ doesn't change the fact that your kingdom has tried twice to usurp our throne and murder our citizens."

"I understand," Larry responded apologetically. He signaled to his bodyguards, and the two men tossed a hefty burlap sack at Elsa's feet. It clattered to the ground with a jingling cacophony of metal. "Ten thousand gold pieces. Please accept our humble restitution."

"Excuse me?" Kai queried. "Ten thousand gold pieces?"

"Fifty thousand," came the counteroffer. "A penny more, and our own people would starve."

Kai raises his eyebrows. "Is this a joke to you? You think you can simply throw money at the problem, and pretend this never happened?"

"I accept your apology." Though Elsa had personally forgiven the Southern Isles, and genuinely desired a peaceful resolution—she could not proffer forgiveness on behalf of others. She had only been one among many victims. "But who can place a monetary value on human life? People lost their dignity, their safety, and their peace of mind. No amount of gold can heal those wounds."

"Have you also forgotten that Henrik destroyed my kingdom under false pretenses, and got the whole world on his side?" Brian snapped aggressively. "Everyone I've ever known is dead because of Henrik!"

"Everyone including Hans," Larry added dolefully. "There is perhaps no man in history whose demise was more intimately linked to Henrik."

"I tried to stop him," Elsa's voice broke and she seemed close to tears. Images of Hans' dangling from the ceiling with bloodshot eyes, broken neck, and slobbering tongue shone vividly in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to banish that traumatic recollection, she couldn't.

"He followed Henrik throughout life, and he followed him to the grave," Larry remarked grimly.

Then the Southern Isles diplomat drew a long, melancholic sigh. "I have served their Royal Family since my youth. The late King Joseph and I have been the best of friends ever since we were young boys. We went hunting and fishing together, we played polo together, and many times we would stay up late into the night, dreaming of our swashbuckling adventures in faraway places. When he was crowned King, I was the proudest man in the land. We sat together on every council meeting. I was his most trusted advisor. But I failed him as a friend."

The man's voice cracked and he seemed on the brink of tears. "I let him down in the worst possible way. I failed to raise Hans and Henrik into wise, compassionate, God-fearing men—as their father had been. Believe me, I tried. But what true authority did I have over thirteen young Princes? How could I order around my future King, or any of his brothers? Without their mother's guidance, those boys all went astray. Just like that, an entire generation lost."

Larry dabbed his eyes and continued, "Old Joe and I were the best of friends, but I failed him miserably. I failed his eldest boy, his youngest, and everyone in between. And ever since then, the world—and Arendelle in particular—has been reeling from the bitter sting of this failure."

A long, pregnant pause hung in the air. Elsa shifted back and forth and stared uneasily at the floor, waiting for him to continue.

"But I will not fail the next generation of Westergards." Larry turned to one his bodyguards and nodded curtly. The man stepped forward and handed him a bundle of blankets. Everyone watched curiously, as a soft cooing sound emanated from the bundle, and a tiny hand reached out to wave indiscriminately through the air.

Larry held out his arms. A tiny face with bright green eyes stared at her. "Your Majesty, meet Henrik Junior."

* * *

Anna raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Henrik had a son?"

"Henrik had several mistresses," Larry explained. "About six months ago, one of them gave birth to this child. Henrik arranged an accident to have the mother killed, to preserve his own reputation. Then he ordered me to drown the baby by the fjord. My wife has been raising him in secret ever since then… but I'm afraid we won't be able to keep our secret for much longer."

Larry reached into his pocket to withdraw a smaller pouch of gold coins, and dropped it into Elsa's palm. "Please," he implored in a tortured whisper. "Help this child find a family in Arendelle. Even your orphanage would be preferable to the fate that awaits him at home. Let him grow up in a faraway land, knowing nothing of his past. Away from the ten uncles who would kill him without a second thought. Anywhere but the Southern Isles."

With trembling hands, Elsa held the baby against her chest. The infant cooed and giggled happily, flapping his chubby little hands about. Henrik Junior had his father's hair and eyes and facial structure. It was difficult to imagine that such a sweet and adorable little cherub had come from such a despicable man. It was even more difficult to imagine that Henrik himself has once been an innocent child too. Somewhere, sometime, in years lost long ago, something had gone terribly wrong.

As Elsa looked the baby in the eye, a strange fluttering sensation of warmth rippled through her chest. Suddenly and inexplicably, her heart began to overflow with love. It was the sense of partnership and solidarity that inevitably formed between people who had suffered together, united by victimhood. Her heart continued to beat with love's powerful rhythm. The longer she embraced him, the stronger and surer it became.

As the child yawned and closed his eyes, Elsa couldn't help noticing how much he resembled Hans too. _Hans_. Part of her was still brokenhearted over Hans' demise. How she wished he could have seen the truth before it was too late! God only knew how many more Westergards would be indoctrinated into that vicious cycle of bullying and oppression that transformed innocent children into monsters.

But there was still hope for Henrik Junior. His fate could be changed, his destruction diverted. Perhaps this was a vicarious second chance for his pitiful Uncle Hans as well. Perhaps the lasting legacy of this terrible disaster could be something positive. Perhaps this would be the pinnacle of a glorious journey of healing and forgiveness.

Right then and there, Elsa knew what she was going to do.

"I'd like to keep him." The words were out before she even realized what she was saying.

"What?" several voices simultaneously arose in astonishment.

Elsa repeated herself in a calmer, surer voice. "I'd like to raise this boy as my son."

"Elsa, do you even hear what you're saying? Is there ice in your brain? This is crazy!" Brian sputtered.

Elsa stroked the baby's wispy auburn hair affectionately. "Brian, this child needs a home and a family. I know that if we love him, teach him, and set a good example, he'll grow up to be nothing like Henrik."

Brian folded his arms. "I'm sorry, but I can't agree to this. I've spent my entire life trying to get away from Henrik. The last thing I need is to wake up every morning and see his demon child, and be reminded of him every single day. Henrik destroyed my kingdom and the only life I'd ever known. And now you expect me to raise his child with you?"

Elsa squeezed his hand tenderly. "I know Henrik hurt you badly. He hurt me too. But he's gone now, and he will never hurt anyone ever again." With glowing eyes, she looked down at the baby in her arms. "This little guy is all alone in the world too. Let's give him a loving family, and a fighting chance at life."

"Family?" Brian yelped, his voice breaking. "I don't have a family, and it's all because of Henrik! Thanks to him, the only family I've ever had is dead!"

Elsa pulled him into a hug. "We are your family," she gestured at herself, then at Anna and Kristoff in turn. "I love you, Brian. And one day we will have a family of our own, too."

"Yes, but this demon child is not my family, and he will never be!" Brian huffed.

"Please," Elsa implored softly. "Give him a chance. I know he will be a wonderful son, if only he could be loved."

After several deep breaths, Brian managed to calm down. "Elsa, you have the purest and most loving heart, and I love that about you. But don't forget, you're the Queen of Arendelle, and you have a sworn duty to protect our citizens and act in their best interest. You are adopting the enemy's son into our family! How well do you think the people will take that? No matter how much you love him, nobody else will. He'll have that baggage on him for his entire life!"

Elsa wrapped her fingers gently around the infant's tiny hand, smiling at the touch. "Anna forgave me after I ignored her for thirteen years. Arendelle forgave me after the Great Freeze. Everyone who tried to kill me last week has been pardoned for treason. Let's continue this legacy of forgiveness and reconciliation that has made our nation great."

Brian sighed heavily, finding himself at a loss for words. How blessed he was to have this amazing woman to love and cherish. Even in the midst of devastating personal pain, she could still find the strength and selflessness to not wallow in her own misery, but look to the well-being of another. Surely her heart was bigger than the world. But unfortunately, right now her heart was ruling over her head.

Doctor Helmholtz chose his words carefully. "Elsa, you're the most loving and caring person in the world. But your love can't be unconditional. No matter how you look at it, Henrik's son is a liability. What if he grows up resentful that he cannot inherit the throne? What if he takes after his father? Do you see what I'm saying? What we can do is to have our own loving family, and extend that love to our citizens by making Arendelle a better place for everyone to live… just as you've always done before. You have to pick your battles, Elsa. And this is a battle not worth fighting. "

Brian stepped in closer. "Just look at him!" His jaw clenched and his demeanor became visibly agitated. "His hair, his face, his nose, his eyes… _he looks just like Henrik_!"

"And that's where the similarities stop."

"What do you mean?"

The Snow Queen cuddled Henrik Junior close to her heart. "This baby is a fresh start for everyone. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and this is the perfect chance to do everything right. It's too late for Hans, and it's too late for every other child who grew up in that toxic environment. But it's not too late for this little guy. If we give him all the love and guidance he needs, he will grow up to be a great man." She leaned over and pecked the baby gently on the top of his head. "Isn't that right, snowflake?"

The implications of that simple affectionate gesture were startling. Brian's jaw dropped in devastation. Grief and betrayal was etched into every line of his handsome face, and his eyes shone with indignant tears. Heat radiated from his reddened cheeks, and his heart began palpitating like a drum. In his distress, he could hardly string together a coherent sentence.

" _Snowflake_? Henrik's son is your precious _snowflake_? Elsa, I can't believe you! After all we've been through together... this demon child can simply show up out of nowhere and destroy everything we've worked to build? This isn't fair!"

"Brian, please! Just hear me out…"

Brian shook his head firmly, his face taut and his lips pressed together. "I've heard enough," he managed in a hoarse whisper. "And I want nothing to do with Henrik's son. Elsa, if you want to keep this child, then I'm afraid you're on your own."

The royal physician turned on his heels and trudged out the door towards his office, with head hanging low and shoulders slumped. "I need some time to myself."

 **Uh-oh... can Brian and Elsa's relationship survive this final hurdle? Or will Henrik destroy their Happily Ever After even though he is no longer alive?**


	32. Henrik Jr part 2

**Guest:** **I appreciate the comment! Yes indeed, the only person whose heart is truly bigger than the world is Jesus. Even though I gave Elsa many Christlike traits, it is important that we remember she is still a flawed, imperfect human being. Thank you for reminding me to keep things in perspective. There is a BIG difference between having Christlike attributes (which is the prerogative of every Christian), versus living a sinless life (which only Jesus ever accomplished).**

 **As the great Christian writer John Bunyan once said, "The greatest prayer I've ever prayed contained enough sin to damn the whole world." Indeed, it would be idolatry and foolishness to think that any human character (real or literary) is even close to Christ's equal.**

" **Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." – Acts 4:12**

 **Chapter 32:**

Snow was falling softly outside the window of the castle nursery, bathing the Kingdom of Arendelle in a fresh layer of fine white powder. Although Christmas Day had dawned, the town was uncomfortably devoid of decorations and holiday spirits. There were no candles, no wreaths, and no cheerful voices singing yuletide melodies. In the wake of the recent disaster with the Southern Isles, the Christmas spirit was all but nonexistent that year. But high up in the Northern Tower of the castle was a heartwarming picture of familial affection.

Elsa leaned back in the cushiony armchair of the castle nursery, cradling Henrik Junior in her arms. The infant cooed and giggled happily, waving his chubby little hands at the snowflakes that floated past the window. "You like the snow, don't you sweetie?" Elsa reached down to flick his button nose with one finger. Henrik Junior grabbed her finger and pulled it towards his mouth, gnawing with his toothless gums and drooling all over her entire hand.

"Are you hungry, snowflake?" Elsa cooed softly. As if to answer her question, Henrik Junior relinquished his grip on her finger. His tiny mouth remained agape and expectant, and his bright green eyes followed her hand as she reached for a bottle of milk on a nearby nightstand. Elsa watched with glowing eyes and warm heart as the baby suckled eagerly. He was beyond adorable. For the moment, it'd completely slipped her mind that he was technically not her child. Slowly, Elsa began rocking him back and forth, singing a soft lullaby.

 _Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,  
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head.  
The stars in the sky, looked down where He lay,  
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. _

_The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,  
But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes.  
I love thee Lord Jesus, look down from the sky,  
And stay by my cradle, till morning is nigh. _

The baby released his hold on the milk bottle and emitted a soft little burp. Elsa couldn't hold back a smile, as she turned him over and caressed the infant's back to relieve his discomfort. Henrik Junior yawned and settled comfortably back into her arms. The blonde lowered her voice and continued to sing,

 _Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay,  
Close by me forever, and love me I pray.  
Bless all the dear children, in thy tender care,  
And fit us for Heaven, to live with thee there._

Henrik Junior rolled over and snuggled into her chest, fast asleep as the song came to a close. Elsa lowered his tiny body gently into an empty bassinet, into a nest of downy pillows and comforters. The baby continued to sleep soundly.

From down the hall, a lively beat of footsteps approached. Two bright turquoise eyes and reddish-blonde pigtails appeared in the doorway. _Anna._ Elsa's face lit up as she bounded out of her chair and pulled the younger girl into a tight embrace. How she missed her dear sister! How her heart ached night after night as she imagined lively, free-spirited Anna trapped in the dungeons! But that miserable chapter in their lives had come to a close, and nothing would ever come between the sisters again.

Anna gestured vaguely at the slumbering infant. "How's he doing?" she mouthed. The royal sisters stepped out into the hallway to continue their conversation.

"All right, I guess." Elsa's spirits dampened as she realized once again that her relationship with Henrik Junior wasn't happening in a vacuum.

"I saw the way you were taking care of him. You really are a natural with children." Anna squeezed her sister's hand. "You'd make a great mother."

Elsa sighed wistfully. "I'm not so sure about that. At the rate I'm going, I'll probably never even get the chance to become one."

With those words, topic changed to one that could not be avoided: Brian Helmholtz. The royal physician had packed up his bags and left the castle without a trace. "Give him some time. I'm sure he'll come around," Anna said reassuringly. "In spite of all his successes in life, Brian is still a very fragile person. He's spent so much of his life feeling victimized and helpless, he panics when things get out of his control. He'll come back to his senses soon enough."

"But he was so angry with me earlier," Elsa whispered regrettably. "What if he never wants to see me again? Maybe he's right… maybe I am making a terrible mistake by adopting this child."

Anna shifted uncomfortably. "He does have a point," she admitted. "Elsa, whatever you choose, I will stand behind you one hundred percent. But it will be very hard for the rest of the kingdom to accept—let alone love—Henrik's son. In a perfect world, people wouldn't be judged for things they didn't choose to be born with. But the world isn't perfect."

"Am I even doing this for the right reasons?" Elsa wondered aloud. "Am I doing this to prove a point? Do I truly love this child, or is there a small part of me that wants to have one final triumph over Henrik?"

"That's a question that only you can answer. But I can tell you this. I know you, Elsa. I know that my wonderful, sweet, loving sister doesn't do things for selfish reasons." Anna winked cryptically. "I can also tell you that Brian will be back before the day is over."

Elsa perked up. "You really think so?"

"Of course. He loves you too much." Anna patted her sister on the back. "He was talking with his emotions, not his head. In all our emotional highs and lows, haven't we all said things we didn't mean?"

Elsa laughed and playfully bopped the redhead with a pillow. "You really are a love expert."

* * *

Brian tossed a stone across the surface of the lake. "I can't believe it," he sighed.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows. "You can't believe what?"

"Everything," Brian admitted. "It seems like no matter what I do, I'm doomed to fail. I thought I did the right thing. I thought I chose the surest road… but now here I am, on the brink of losing it all."

The rugged blond man flicked his fishing pole and sent the line sailing across the glassy water. "Doc, you have to make a choice here. It all boils down to this. Do you love Elsa more than you hate Henrik?"

"Of course I do," Brian shrugged. "I love Elsa more than anything in the world."

"I believe that," Kristoff rowed the boat further towards the middle of the lake. "But what are you going to do about it? You can sit here and say you love Elsa until you're blue in the face. But until you get off your butt and go back to her, it won't amount to anything."

"But… Henrik's son… I don't know if I can…" Brian faltered, grasping for words to adequately describe his predicament.

"I feel you, mate." Kristoff reeled his line back in, and shrugged disappointedly at the empty hook. "I'm not going to tell you that you should _get over it_ , or that you _shouldn't feel this way_. Most people would turn into a total basket case after one day of being tormented by Henrik. You had to deal with him for half your life. But there's a choice to be made here. Are you willing to lose Elsa over this? You and Elsa have been to the moon and back together. Are you willing to throw away everything you've built?"

Kristoff baited his hook and let it descend back down into the water. "Doc, I hate to say this… but if you walk away now, you're giving Henrik the final victory. You're letting him destroy your Happily Ever After from beyond the grave. It would be the biggest mistake of your life."

Brian's face contorted into an agonized grimace. "You're right, Kris. If I let a dead man run my life, then I deserve to lose my happy ending. I really would be Lard Butt. I don't know if I'll ever be able to love Henrik's son, but if that's what Elsa wants, I'm gonna have to try.

The royal physician leaned back and crossed his legs. "Maybe I can try and reason with Elsa—convince her that adopting Henrik's son isn't practical. She's a brilliant young woman and has more brains than anyone I know. But she does tend to think with her heart. No matter how much Elsa loves this child, nobody else will. She has to understand that. She also has to realize that she's making herself an international laughingstock. Other kingdoms will think that the mighty Snow Queen is a total doormat. It's bad enough that the Southern Isles has twice been pardoned for trying to take over Arendelle. Now she's going out of her way to raise their unwanted bastard son?"

Kristoff gave a jovial little laugh. "You should tell that to Elsa, not to me."

"Indeed I do," Brian agreed. "Hopefully she'll come around. But if she really thinks that adopting Henrik's son is the best thing to do, I'll stand behind her one hundred percent. Shoulder to shoulder, we're going to see this through to the end."

The ice harvester seized the oars and began rowing back to shore. "Then we'd better make haste. Because I overheard some talk of a potential courtship between Elsa and one of the Southern Isles Princes."

"WHAT?" Brian shrieked incredulously.

Kristoff nodded. "I overheard that Lawrence guy talking with the council. They're considering sending over one of the Southern Isles Princes to court Elsa. To make amends, you know."

"Who?" Brian demanded. "Which one?" The royal physician felt his stomach clench at the thought of a filthy Westergard daring to seek Elsa's hand.

"Prince Conrad, the seventh brother. They say he's an upstanding fellow, served ten years in the Royal Navy. I'm sure Elsa will decline, but the point is—"

"Over my dead body!" Brian grabbed the oars and began rowing vigorously. He knew very well who Prince Conrad was. The seventh Westergard was one of the few Southern Isles brothers who hadn't been a mean-spirited child or adolescent. Somehow, he had avoided falling into the pipeline of destruction that had claimed most of his brothers. Strong and silent, he was indeed a fine man. But Brian would sooner die than let another Westergard come near his precious Frosty.

As they reached the dock, Brian threw down the oars and leapt out of the boat. He mounted his horse and bounded through the woods like a madman, leaving Kristoff and Sven in the dust.

"Hang on, Elsa! I'm coming!"

 **More to come! Spring break is just around the corner. Expect the next update sooner!**


	33. The Return of the King

**Guest: You have a point. The demand for justice to be served and evil to be punished should NEVER be out of spite or vengeance, but out of a virtuous love for goodness. A true disciple of Christ should always hope and pray for a wicked man to turn from his ways and embrace life. Unfortunately, when all remedies fail and the wicked man remains 100% unrepentant (like Henrik did), his fate must be ruin. Although God grieves over lost sinners, he will not override anyone's free will or force anyone to choose good over evil. Love concedes defeat when it is rejected. **

**May 21, 2016 Edit: After some careful deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that the ending of this story would be far more powerful and emotional if it ended with Elsa keeping Henrik Jr as her own. This would be the start of a beautiful journey of redemption and closure, bringing down the curtains on a most unfortunate chapter of everyone's lives. **

**Chapter 33:**

Brian dismounted his steed and made a beeline for the castle gates, completely immersed in his thoughts. His gaze was steely and there was a grim determination about his features. He was barely aware of the dull miasma of voices and faces that milled about in his vicinity. Until he walked straight into someone. A tall man in his mid-thirties, with green eyes and reddish sideburns.

 _So Kristoff wasn't bluffing!_ Brian could hardly believe his eyes. The nerve of those Westergards! How presumptuous and self-aggrandizing it was, for them to think they were doing Arendelle a favor by offering to marry Elsa. How delusional they were, to think Elsa would benefit from aligning herself with them! Brian almost wanted to laugh aloud at the shear ridiculousness of the situation. _I can't believe you! You should be thanking Elsa on bended knee for not declaring war on the Southern Isles! But instead you're here asking her to marry you?_

The auburn-haired man gave a curt, respectful nod. "Doctor Helmholtz. Finest physician in the civilized world, and youngest Nobel Prize winner in over a century." He extended a hand towards Brian. "Prince Conrad of the Southern Isles. Pleased to meet you."

Brian grasped his hand and shook it stiffly. "I'm well aware of who you are, Your Highness. Our childhood acquaintance has not slipped my memory. Now tell me, Prince Conrad, what brings you here to our fine kingdom? After all, you wouldn't be the first of your brothers to demonstrate an _immense_ fascination with what Arendelle has to offer."

The seventh Westergard grimaced in contrition. "Doctor Helmholtz sir, there are no adequate words for disgusted I am by what Hans and Henrik did. I too remember our shared childhood, the good and the bad. Please allow me to reassure you that most of my brothers have matured into fine men, in spite of the mean-spirited boys they used to be. We were young and foolish—lacking in nurture and guidance after our mother's death. But I digress. I am here not to make excuses or give fancy speeches, but to extend a hopeful hand of reconciliation."

Brian quirked an eyebrow. "And what is the nature of this reconciliation?"

Prince Conrad changed the subject. "You've served as the royal physician for over six years. I'm sure you know Queen Elsa fairly well, don't you? Would you happen to know what her favorite flower is? What kind of books she likes to read? Any special hobbies or interests she might have?"

Brian was getting increasingly agitated and defensive with each passing word. He knew where this conversation was headed, and he wasn't going to stand for this. There would be a cold day in hell before another Westergard tried to stake a claim on his precious Elsa. "Why is that any of your concern?"

The seventh Prince of the Southern Isles shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet. "Perhaps you could give me some pointers on how to court the Queen?"

"You want to court her?" Brian demanded. "And why should she agree to that?"

"There's no need to take on that tone, Doctor Helmholtz. All I ask for is a chance to fix the relationship that was broken. Peace has prevailed between Arendelle and the Southern Isles for hundreds of years prior. It is my hope, that through the bond of marriage, our kingdoms can take the first steps towards healing and reconciliation."

Brian shook his head firmly. "I'm sorry, but the answer is no. Frosty has no desire to seek a relationship with anyone from your family."

Conrad narrowed his eyes curiously. "Frosty? Did you just call her Frosty?" His jaw dropped in astonishment. "So it's true then! You _are_ courting Queen Elsa. Listen to me, Doctor Helmholtz—"

"What part of _no_ don't you understand? Elsa is not interested in seeing you. This topic is not open to further discussion. Good day, Prince Conrad." Before the auburn-haired man could utter another sound, Brian had swept out of the throne room and was marching up the stairs.

* * *

Henrik Jr laughed and giggled as he crawled across the room towards a bouncy rubber beach ball. When the infant reached his destination, he slapped his tiny hands down on the ball and rolled over to sit up straight.

On the other end of the room, Elsa sat on the floor with both hands outstretched. "Over here, snowflake!" Henrik Jr's chubby little body bobbed back and forth as he launched forward and flailed out one arm, swatting the ball towards Elsa. The Snow Queen gently rolled the ball back, making sure not to launch the projectile too hard or fast. Henrik Jr batted the ball into a teetering tower of wooden blocks, which they had built together earlier that afternoon. The baby squealed with delight and clapped until he was practically bouncing up and down, as the blocks toppled over. He quickly crawled over to begin rebuilding.

Gerda stepped into the room with a bundle of infant-sized clothing. Elsa smiled gratefully and reached down to scoop Henrik Jr into her arms. She flicked his button nose gently. "It's time for your bath, sweetie. You like the water, don't you?" Henrik Jr cooed happily, as if to give assent.

"So you're keeping him." Gerda remarked matter-of-factly.

Elsa sighed melancholically. Henrik Jr's future in Arendelle was the last thing she wanted to discuss. But it was an issue that could not be avoided.

"I don't know," Elsa admitted. "I love him like my own son. I couldn't simply send him away. But keeping him would open a whole new can of worms. Eventually the whole kingdom will have to find out. What if people can't accept him? What if he isn't happy here?"

Gerda patted the blonde reassuringly on the back. "I think you would make a great mother, Elsa. But that's a decision you'll have to—"

Before Gerda could finish, the door clanged open with a wrenching, abrasive sound of wood grinding against metal. Brian burst into the room with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. He hunched over to catch his breath. For several tense moments, neither Elsa nor Brian spoke a word as they continued staring dumbly at each other in utter disarray.

Gerda couldn't hold back a smile at how Elsa's face lit up at the sight of the royal physician. She and Kai had taken care of the two royal sisters since infancy, and knew them better than anyone. Elsa had never been particularly expressive or communicative with her emotions. Shyness had been one of her defining characteristics ever since she was a little girl. But Gerda hadn't failed to notice that dreamy look that saturated her eyes every time Brian's name was merely mentioned. Or how Elsa seemed to mentally withdraw from the outside world and retreat into the private realm of her own mind, after every interaction with the royal physician.

Plain and simple, the Snow Queen was in love.

"I'm sorry!" Brian and Elsa simultaneously blurted. The royal physician instantly plunged headlong into a lengthy monologue of apologies. "Elsa, I'm so sorry. I've never ever felt so sick to my stomach for the way I said things to you yesterday. Apologizing to you is not even enough. I probably broke your heart threatening to leave, all because of that wicked man who isn't even alive anymore, but said such hurtful things to the woman I love. Elsa, I was so wrong to turn my back on you! Please, _please_ give me another chance! I just want to make you happy! To hold you in my arms, love you, protect you, give you a family, and be together forever! Just like we promised! Oh Elsa, won't you give me another chance?"

Brian grabbed Elsa by the shoulders and gazed pleadingly into her eyes. His voice cracked as he continued his entreaty. "I've made many bad choices in my life, and some of them have had terrible consequences. Over the many years, I've made peace with most of those things. But losing you is something I could _never_ recover from… something I could _never_ forgive myself for! Elsa, I'm asking—no, _begging_ —you not to let me make that dreadful mistake!"

Elsa hesitated for a moment, before responding. "I should apologize as well," she said softly.

Brian's jaw dropped in shock. Elsa continued, "I was far too hasty with this decision, and didn't stop to consider your point of view. I didn't realize how unfair it would be for me to decide on your behalf. Henrik hurt you in ways that I could never begin to imagine. And I'm sorry for even remotely thinking that I'd ever understand what you suffered because of him. I hope you will forgive Henrik not because he deserves leniency, but because you deserve peace in your heart."

Elsa squeezed one of Brian's hands gently. "Brian, will you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive. Anything for my precious, darling Frosty. I love you more than anything in the world." Brian kissed Elsa gently on the forehead. "If you want to keep Henrik Jr, then I'm going to learn to love him too. As long as you're happy, then so am I."

Elsa's shoulders sagged. "Actually, I think you have a point."

Brian stepped back and eyed her curiously. "What do you mean? A point about what?"

"About Henrik's son. Sometimes love means letting go." Elsa brushed back a lock of reddish hair, and gazed longingly into the baby's sweet little face. Tears welled in her eyes and her voice quavered. "Maybe the most loving thing we can do for this child is to let him grow up away from the public eye. It would be a long and bitter struggle for him to gain acceptance, once people learn the truth about his lineage."

Elsa hugged the baby tighter to her chest. "But we can't simply send him away to live with strangers. What if he isn't raised in a loving family? What if he isn't treated well?" A whirlwind of horrifying imaginations raced through her mind. Henrik Jr growing up in loneliness and neglect. Henrik Jr deprived of love. Henrik Jr inculcated into the very same dog-eat-dog family dynamic, which had claimed Uncle Hans' humanity and ultimately his life.

"I think you should keep him," Gerda suddenly spoke up.

"I should?" Elsa wondered aloud. Suddenly, her confidence sagged. Was she ready to be a mother?

Kai cleared his throat loudly and stepped into the room. "You would make a great mother, Elsa. In fact, there is no better person to raise him than you."

In her stupor, Elsa could barely string together a coherent sentence. "You… you mean it?"

Kai nodded decisively. "This child was conceived not in love, but in deceit and debauchery. His own father wanted him dead. He has Henrik's blood running in his veins. If either nature or nurture is allowed to freely run its course, the results could be disastrous. He will need no shortage of love and supervision, to even begin mitigating all the terrible circumstances surrounding his birth. And no one knows more about love than you, my dear Elsa."

"You've had a strong nurturing instinct ever since you were a little girl," Gerda added. She reached out to caress Henrik Jr's wispy reddish-blonde hair. "The day your sister was born, you were so happy. You were only three and a half years old, but you wanted to learn everything in the world about babies. You were always asking, _Can I hold her? Can I feed her? Can I change her diaper? Can I give her a bath? Can I help with this? Can I help with that?_ "

Kai gave Brian a cryptic wink. "And you couldn't wait to have a baby of your own."

At these words, the doctor blushed awkwardly. He quickly composed himself and squeezed Elsa's hand comfortingly. "Don't be afraid, Elsa. No one would make a better mother than you."

Elsa faltered, as she gaped incredulously at the man who had been so angry at her the previous day, for daring to entertain the possibility of keeping Henrik Jr. "But... Brian, are you sure? This is a very big commitment. Are you sure you could live with Henrik's child?"

The royal physician drew a deep, melancholic breath. "Henrik has caused me more pain than anyone. But you have brought me even greater joy. I don't know if I can truly love his child, but I'll have to try." He squared his shoulders. "I'll have to remind myself every day that this is your child, and not Henrik's."

"I'd probably make a terrible mother," Elsa whispered regrettably. "Just look at me. I'm a complete basket case. I can barely take care of myself."

Gerda sensed her apprehension. After all, Elsa had been on her own since she was eight years old. Her emotional state was particularly fragile, in the wake of the recent traumatic ordeal with the Westergards, and she would need support and confidence more than ever. "Kai and myself will be there every step of the way, to help you with anything you need."

A wave of confidence washed over Elsa like a cool, fresh alpine spring. Words could not express her gratitude, and tears could not repay the debt she owed. Though she wasn't sure she was ready for motherhood, she was sure going to try. And she wouldn't have to do it alone. Elsa flung both arms around the older couple, pulling them in a crushing embrace. "How could I ever thank you?" Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "You've always been there for me… no matter what."

Gerda hugged her back. "Thank us by giving this little boy a happy childhood."

Elsa cuddled Henrik Jr close to her chest. "I will," she promised.

Kai spoke up. "Would you like to name him, Elsa?"

Elsa's head snapped up. "Name him?" she repeated blankly.

Kai nodded in assent. "He is your child, and his legacy will forever be intertwined with yours."

Elsa paused for a moment. This child was a stranger in a foreign land. Abandoned by his family and left to fend for himself. But by the grace of God, here he stood at the horizon of a promising new life of love. One day he would grow up to be a great man. His story would serve as a powerful testament of healing, of forgiveness, of reconciliation, to all who knew it.

She locked eyes with Brian and smiled knowingly. "Joseph. Let's call him Joseph."

* * *

 _Late that night…_

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck two as Brian finally finished poring through a fascinating encyclopedia on immunology, which he had found in the castle library. He gave an exhausted but satisfied yawn as he laid the book back on the shelf. Brian rose from the armchair and prepared to depart for his bedchambers.

After all that had transpired in recent weeks, the doctor wanted nothing more than a semblance of normalcy back in his life. He'd had enough emotional turmoil to last a thousand lifetimes. Now it was time to return to his ordinary routine.

However, nothing in his life would ever be ordinary again. As Brian passed by the snowflake-painted door leading to Elsa's room, his ears detected a most curious phenomenon. Strange noises emanated faintly from behind the door. Brian pressed his ear against the sleek wooden surface, and detected faint sounds of sniffling and crying.

Brian immediately forgot how tired and overwhelmed he was feeling. His dear Frosty was suffering, and that was all that mattered at the moment. Quite frankly, he would have expected no less. Although the past month had been incredibly taxing on Brian, he could not begin to imagine the anguish that she had endured in body or spirit. Without a second thought, he pushed open the door. "Elsa, are you okay?"

The beautiful, sweet, angelic young woman he loved so dearly was seated on the floor of her closet, with her face buried between both knees. Her shoulders heaved and her entire body trembled as she continued to weep bitterly.

Brian was immediately at her side. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, very conspicuously avoiding all eye contact.

"Elsa, how can it be nothing? Whatever happened, it's clearly upsetting you tremendously. Would you like to talk about it?" The blonde shook her head and scooted further away from Brian.

The royal physician scratched his head in perplexity. "Did you have another nightmare?" he pressed gently.

The blonde shook her head and hugged her knees tighter to her chest. No, this wasn't about Hans or Henrik. It was about a different Westergard. Earlier in the evening, she had been rocking little Joseph to sleep. The baby suddenly burst into a fit of inconsolable tears. A massive fit of loud, angry sobs that rocked his entire body and nearly lacerated his tiny vocal cords. His chubby cheeks were red and splotchy with ruptured capillaries, in the wake of his explosive screeching. No matter how desperately Elsa tried to console him, she was powerless to assuage the distressed child. Only when he had nearly lost his voice and collapsed from exhaustion, did Joseph finally settle down; and even then, the source of his outburst remained a mystery. Elsa felt so worthless and incompetent.

 _Snowflake, what's wrong?_

 _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!_

 _Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold?_

 _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!_ _ _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!__

 _Oh no! Are you sick?  
_

 _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!_ _ _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!__ _ _ _WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!___

 _Sweetheart, Mommy can't read your mind! Please, PLEASE! Won't you tell me what's wrong?  
_

 _WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_

When she closed her eyes, she could still see the mottled burgundy hue of Joseph's chubby cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and gaping toothless mouth … feel the palpable anguish and rage exploding from his tiny lungs... the hatred and frustration he must have felt towards the so-called mother who couldn't do a thing to assist him. What a worthless excuse of a mother she was! Elsa's bright blue eyes filled with tears.

"I couldn't sleep," she finally admitted.

"And why is that, snowflake?" Brian gently pressed. He could detect fear in her voice.

Brian reached out to pull her into his embrace. Elsa shuddered and tried to scoot away, but his hold remained warm and firm. "Tell me, my love. What is it that's bothering you? We can work it out together."

For several tense minutes, neither of them spoke. Finally, Elsa broke the silence. "The baby hates me," she mumbled. Her cheeks reddened in humiliation. How pathetic it was! The Queen of Arendelle reduced to a sobbing wreck. She could take care of a kingdom, but she couldn't even take care of her own child."

Brian would have suspected no less. Last week, Elsa had been jarred from her sleep after a terrifying nightmare of the angry mob hunting her down and beating her senseless… with Brian at the forefront.

"It was terrible," Elsa sniffed. "I just finished feeding and changing him... and he was ready to go to bed. Everything was going fine. Then he suddenly burst out crying hysterically. It went on for thirty minutes. No matter what I tried, it only made things worse. I tried to find Kai and Gerda, but they were both asleep. Now he's finally fallen asleep, but I still don't know what the problem was." Elsa hung her head and let the tears stream down her cheeks. "I knew I'd make a terrible mother. Who was I kidding?"

The words stung like a dagger through the heart. Brian clenched his fists and felt rage towards Henrik erupt in his chest. His heart thudded like a drum, and righteous indignation pounded in his veins. He wanted to vomit at the mere thought of Henrik tormenting his precious Elsa from beyond the grave. But for the first time in forever, there was no loathing directed towards himself. For the first time in forever, Brian Helmholtz was not the target of his own vituperation and abhorrence. For the first time in forever, he wasn't going to blame himself each and every time something went wrong.

There was a time not long ago, when Brian would have blamed himself for all that had happened. He failed to protect her. Everything was his fault. If he hadn't tried to fight back against Prince Justin, his kingdom would still be standing. If he hadn't been such a gutless coward, the recent disaster with Hans and Henrik would never have happened. If he hadn't gotten angry at Elsa when she first suggested adopting Henrik Jr, her confidence and self-esteem wouldn't be so broken. In bygone days, Brian would have convinced himself that Elsa would be better off without him. He would have told himself that although Hans and Henrik were the ones directly at fault, the fundamental source of all Elsa's misfortune was one thing: Brian Helmholtz's cowardly, vacillating heart full of self-pity and incompetence—and his abject inability to stand his ground against the Westergards.

However, the days of Lard Butt were no more. Brian was through with being Henrik's self-appointed whipping boy. He was done running and hiding. He would stand strong in the face of adversity, and nothing would ever weaken his resolve.

Brian hugged Elsa tightly and dabbed at her tears. This time, she did not try to push him away. "It's not your fault, Elsa. Babies cry all the time. "He ran his fingers through her soft, silky blonde hair. "Though I'm not ready to accept this boy as my son, I will take care of him because he is yours. I love you so much, Elsa. I'll stay by your side for as long as you need. "

At these words, a small smile returned to Elsa's lips. She leaned in and laid her head gently against his chest. Brian squeezed her hand playfully. "Now, why don't we go to the kitchens and get some chocolate?"

Elsa's face immediately lit up as she leapt to her feet and bounded for the door, dragging him in her wake. "Yes! Let's go!"

 **More fluff to come!**


	34. The Courtship of Frosty

**Author's Note:** **I'm so sorry I haven't been too responsive in getting back to readers on their reviews and PM's, & that the past 5-6 chapters have been so slow. But I've been reading all of your feedback and greatly appreciate the time and insight you have been sharing! **

**May 21 Edit: As you might have noticed, Chapter 33 has been revised. Originally, it involved Henrik Jr being adopted by Kai and Gerda. But after thinking about it some more, I really truly believe that the story will have a better ending if Henrik Jr stays with Elsa. So the remainder of the story will proceed with Henrik Jr as Elsa's adopted son. I have also edited this chapter to add in a cute scene with Henrik Jr!  
**

 **Now, I believe it is time for some Frosty and Brian fluff!**

 **Chapter 34:**

 _One week later…_

Brian and Elsa stood across from each other, at opposite ends of the castle gardens. The January sky was gray and cloudy, but the thick clouds were intermittently penetrated by a few determined rays of light, which bathed the landscape in a soft silvery glow. Some fresh winter air was always rejuvenating. Besides, the bookish, scholarly, ladylike Snow Queen could certainly benefit from some time spent outdoors.

Elsa held a dense leather ball in her hand, roughly the size of a large apple. Brian had spent the afternoon teaching her how to throw and catch a ball.

She curved her arm back and prepared to let it sail. But the projectile felt strangely unnatural in her grip. She shifted her fingers here and there, readjusting her grip, but continued to feel oddly disoriented. In her youth, Elsa had studied aerodynamics and mastered its governing equations and principles by age sixteen. On paper, she knew the physics behind the game. But in practice, she had no idea what to do.

Brian's voice echoed across the courtyard. "Step forward with your opposite foot and give a nice, quick, snappy toss. Don't forget to follow through." Elsa took aim and released. The ball precessed through the air perfectly in line with her target, before falling ten yards short.

Doctor Helmholtz rushed forward to retrieve it. "Not bad," he smiled in encouragement. "Your aim was spot on. But let's try to put a little more muscle into the throw. Pretend you're throwing lumps of manure at the Westergards." His biceps tensed as he prepared to throw the ball back to Elsa.

"Wait!" Elsa suddenly blurted. "How do I catch?"

"Remember what we talked about earlier?" Brian reminded her gently. "Keep your eye on the ball. Don't play to where the ball is—play to where the ball is going to be. Anticipate where the ball is going to land, and move your feet to get to that spot first."

With a whoosh of air and the crisp, snappy sound of his sleeve popping, Brian sent the ball catapulting through the air in a high arc. Elsa stepped in to catch, but the ball sailed far over her head and landed in a pile of leaves behind the toolshed. Brian smiled contritely. "Sorry, that's my fault. Way too far."

"Show-off!" Elsa teased as she ran to retrieve the ball. She nimbly hopped over puddles of half-melted snow and vaulted over a wooden flowerbed. The blonde brushed back her windswept bangs and knelt down besides a pile of moist soggy leaves, grimacing slightly as she slipped her fingers into the decaying foliage.

"Need any help?" Brian's voice rang out

"I'm fine," Elsa called back. She withdrew her hand and reached for a fragment of broken tree branch lying nearby, intending to dig the ball out. But before she could dip the wooden appendage into the leaves, a strange rustling sound suddenly rang out from the unseen depths of yellow and brown.

Elsa dropped the stick and peered into the leaves in mild bewilderment. A cacophony of snapping twigs and rustling foliage rang out once more. A strange undulating motion rippled through the leaves… and an enormous black rat emerged.

It was a most hideous thing. Patches of scruffy black fur were sporadically missing from the rat's muscular body, revealing leathery pink skin covered with lumps and boils. The barren follicles gaped open so wide, that ridges of graying flesh and subcutaneous fat lay exposed. As the rat extricated itself from the pile of leaves and clambered atop the flowerbed, its large bony feet scraped against the wood. The rat's beady eyes glistened with malice and duplicity as it sat upon its haunches, glaring vindictively at the blonde-haired intruder. The pernicious rodent bared its teeth and hissed loudly. As if daring her to take another step closer.

For a few seconds, Elsa was completely petrified by fear and disgust. But as the rat's rump wiggled and its tail jerked taut like a poisonous adder, the sheer repugnance of it broke Elsa out of her catatonic trance.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!" Elsa let out a bloodcurdling scream that reverberated violently throughout the entire kingdom. Completely galvanized by panic and terror, she shot six feet into the air, before falling to the ground in a heap of tangled clothing. Elsa tripped and stumbled over her feet, kicking over flower pots as she bounded about frantically. "EEW! EEW! EEW! IT'S SO DISGUSTING!"

Brian was immediately by her side, his eyes fraught with concern. "Elsa baby, what's wrong?" Before he could utter another syllable, Elsa flung herself at him, wrapping both arms around his neck in a strangulatory grip.

"Brian, save me!" Elsa screamed hysterically. Her face was red and blotchy, and her chest was heaving with exertion. She kicked and thrashed about wildly as she attempted to clamber on top of his head. Her nails clawed his shoulders and her bare feet repeatedly thudded against his back and chest. "Help! Don't let it eat me!" Elsa's throat was raw from all her screeching and bawling.

The doctor whirled about in utter bewilderment. " _What_ is so disgusting? _What_ is trying to eat you?"

As if to answer his question, the rat emitted another angry hiss. Every hair on its coat stood erect, making it appear twice as large. Its eyes were narrowed aggressively and its tail stood taut and erect in the air, ready to pounce.

"Stop it!" Elsa shrieked, burying her face into Brian's shoulder. "Make it go away!"

A look of grim determination crossed Brian's amiable features. Without hesitation or vacillation, he seized a garden hoe leaning against the tool shed. His voice boomed heroically across the courtyard as he addressed his feisty foe.

"Arendelle has had more than its fair share of uninvited guests over these past few years. And you, Mister Rat, will be the last one. Last month, I killed a two-hundred-fifty-pound rat named Henrik Westergard. Don't think for a minute that I'm going to spare you."

The rat leapt into the air, but Brian was ready. He clenched his fists and delivered a mighty swing. The weapon flashed through the air in a lethal arc, hewing the rat lifelessly to the ground. Not a drop of blood was shed, and not an inch of skin was torn. The killing strike was as clean as could be.

The royal physician let the hoe drop from his hand. It clanged against the cobblestone in a dull, hollow note of finality. "There will be a cold day in hell before I stand by and let anyone upset this beautiful young lady whom I love so much."

"Do you really mean that?" Elsa gushed eagerly. Slowly, she loosened her grip around his neck, and got back on her feet.

Brian stroked Elsa's hair lovingly. "Of course I do. I love you so much, my precious snowflake." He lifted her by the waist and twirled her around in a full circle. "And I'm going to make you the happiest girl ever."

Elsa giggled and blushed. "I love you too, my valiant hero. As long as we're together, I have nothing to be afraid of." With glowing eyes and a pink complexion, Elsa leaned in and planted a light kiss on his cheek.

* * *

It was lunchtime, and the royal family was seated in the dining hall. Elsa was trying unsuccessfully to feed a very fussy Joseph, who whined and pouted and squirmed incessantly. Amorphous blobs of chewed-up food, of varying colors and consistencies, were splattered randomly across the tabletop and floor.

The baby, who was now eight months old, puckered his lips and spat an enormous glob of mashed peas onto the table. Gerda sighed and wiped the table clean of the gooey projectile. "Just like your Auntie Anna used to be," she said with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile.

"Hey!" Anna protested. "I was NOT a picky eater!"

Kai covered a smile. "Oh yes you were, Princess. When it came to vegetables, you were the worst!"

 _Splat!_ A loud squelching sound echoed resonantly throughout the dining hall, as a mouthful of mashed carrots flew across the room and hit Brian squarely between the eyes. The baby once known as Henrik Jr giggled hysterically and flapped his chubby little arms about. "Joseph!" Gerda scolded gently. "That wasn't very nice!"

Elsa dipped the little spoon into the greenish-yellow mush that had been the major source of conflict and contention for the past hour. "Snowflake," her voice was slow and soft. "I know you don't like yucky vegetables, but you've gotta eat. Then you'll grow up to be big and strong. And you can't keep spitting, because spitting is not nice." Joseph stopped fussing as he stared at his mother with big wide eyes.

Elsa then tried the one thing that had always succeeded at pacifying Anna's baby tantrums. She swirled her hands about to create a glowing blue ball of light that shimmered ethereally. The baby's tiny mouth fell open and his eyes remained transfixed on the mystical phenomenon. Elsa smoothly slid the spoonful of mashed peas into Joseph's agape mouth. The pasty green sludge was swallowed with no resistance. She patted him comfortingly on the back. "There you go. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

For a moment, the red-haired infant was calm and subdued. Then suddenly, without warning, he seized the bowl of mashed peas in both hands and flung it across the table, hitting Brian squarely in the face. Henrik Jr let out a high-pitched squeal of laughter and giggled uncontrollably until he fell into a fit of hiccups.

Elsa winced apologetically at Brian, whose brown hair was thoroughly saturated with muck. His glasses and pristine white coat were also splattered with the yellow-green slime. But the corners of his lips twitched, and the royal physician couldn't hold back an amused chuckle.

* * *

"Do I look okay?" Brian peered at his reflection in the mirror of the dining hall. He was garbed in one of the finest suits and ties in the royal wardrobe, and his hair was neatly slicked back. Medals were pinned to his chest. An ensemble fit for a King. The royal physician certainly wasn't used to donning such elegant apparel.

It was Friday evening, and Brian had spent the week setting up a romantic dinner for himself and Elsa. Scented candles lined the walls of the room, and the floor was lightly dusted with fresh rose petals. The mouthwatering aroma of food came wafting out of the kitchen in successive waves of heavenly goodness.

"Relax, Doc!" Kristoff laughed jocularly. "You look great! Just like the King you will soon become."

"I just want everything to be perfect," Brian confessed. "If anything goes wrong, the whole surprise is ruined! Are you absolutely sure Elsa doesn't know about this yet? Could anyone have let the cat out of the bag?"

"I've been keeping Elsa busy for the past week," Anna informed him. "Rest assured that she doesn't know. And if she does, she hasn't said a word about it."

Kristoff glanced at the grandfather clock leaning against the far wall. "Elsa will be here in five minutes. We'd better get going." As he and Anna headed for the door, the ice harvester slapped Brian jovially on the back. "Knock 'em dead, Brian!"

The clock struck seven, and the door to the dining hall creaked open. Elsa's slender form was silhouetted in the doorway. Brian's jaw dropped at the sight. She was so beautiful as she stood there, framed in golden luminescence as if her entire body were wrapped in a halo. The backlight cast a shadowy contour across her face, further accentuating her ethereal beauty and enhancing her angelic vibe. As Elsa gracefully walked towards him, the aura of light seemed to follow her. Her beauty was so radiant, the candlelight was practically invisible in comparison. The physician couldn't stop staring.

Brian stood and dipped his head respectfully. "Good evening, milady."

Elsa's eyes shone like sapphires. "Oh Brian… I don't know what to say. It's beautiful." She paused to survey her surroundings in all its embellished glory. "You did this all for me?"

The doctor gently took her hand and planted a delicate kiss on her knuckles. "Anything for my precious Frosty. Now, why don't you take a seat? Dinner will be served shortly."

In no time at all, the table was covered with dish after dish of the finest food in the kingdom. Servants darted in and out of the kitchen, catering meticulously to the couple's every need, yet making sure to give them enough space. Kai was in a particularly festive mood. He practically glided across the floor with a diamond-studded punch bowl in hand, and refilled Elsa's glass in a most flamboyant motion. Behind her back, he quirked an eyebrow and shot Brian a wink. _So far so good,_ he mouthed.

"This food is delicious," Brian sighed, taking a bite of salmon. "Our chefs really know how to throw a party." He had skipped lunch earlier in the day, and was so hungry he was practically inhaling the food. But he had to maintain proper table manners nonetheless. _Pull it together, Brian. If Elsa sees you gobbling or talking with your mouth full, it's over!_

"It really is," Elsa agreed. "And it tastes even better when you're eating with someone."

Brian reached across the table and stroked her on the cheek. "Especially when that someone is the wonderful, lovely Snow Queen. I could be eating dirt and hay, but it would taste like the most delicious thing in the world, if I had the pleasure of you keeping me company."

Elsa punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Oh Brian, that's so very sweet of you." A dreamy expression crossed her features. "You make me feel so warm inside. I just love spending time with you." When Elsa smiled, her button-nose twitched in the most adorable fashion. Brian was positively beaming with delight.

When the food had been consumed, the royal band stepped forward and began to serenade the couple. Gentle melodies of slow, soothing classical music filled the room and echoed off the voluminous rafters. Every note was played masterfully, and wrought peace and serenity in Elsa's heart.

Brian took Elsa by the hand and led her to the center of the room, beneath a massive chandelier. "May I offer you a dance, milady?"

Elsa glanced away shyly, her cheeks tinged pink. "I'm afraid to say I don't really know how to dance."

"You don't?"

"No," Elsa confessed. "I never learned how. Mama and Papa thought it would be too dangerous."

Brian would have suspected no less. Of course Elsa never learned how to dance, having been locked away from all human contact since she was eight years old. But they weren't going to discuss the issue any further. The past was in the past, and nothing was going to ruin their special dinner. "Come here," he offered kindly. Elsa tentatively stepped forward to face him. He smiled and took her by the hand. "Better late than never."

"Put your hand on my shoulder… yes, just like that. And now this, and that..." Brian wrapped his hand around her waist. Elsa flinched at the contact, but remained in place. Brian took her free hand into his own and led her in a slow, graceful waltz.

The music began to pick up. "There you go, that's it! You're getting the hang of it!" Brian called out encouragingly. She really was a quick learner. Before long, they were waltzing across the room with ease and fluidity.

As they continued to dance through the night, serenaded by the royal band, Brian found himself drowning in her beauty. He had never seen her so close-up, and found himself intoxicated by her every feature. That perfect porcelain skin… that light blonde hair that shone like threads of gold in the candlelight… and those sparkling cerulean eyes that even the oceans would envy. Doctor Helmholtz couldn't stop staring.

Little did he know that Elsa was equally mesmerized. In fact, the Snow Queen was practically melting. Brian's hands were so warm and strong, and his grip was so confident as he led her in the dance. Elsa felt so secure in his presence. She knew that in his arms she would always be comforted, cherished and protected. If the world turned against her, he would stand by her side every step of the way. If the world called her a witch, he would call her an angel. Right then and there, Elsa knew with all her heart that this man was the love of her life.

 **More fluff coming up!**


	35. Queen of my Heart

**Welcome back!**

 **I'm so sorry for the huge delay. I've been pretty busy and distracted this summer (working, traveling, housekeeping, NBA Finals), and am so grateful to anyone who has not given up following this story. I also had a bout of Writer's Block in July this year. But here is Chapter 35!**

 **Many of the earlier chapters were also revised to eliminate the Hans humor and profanity. As I rediscovered my faith this past year and re-dedicated my life and worldview to Jesus Christ, it is my sincere belief that such language has no place in the story—joking or not.**

 ***Just a reminder, since it's been so long. Westergard 7 came to Arendelle in Chapter 31, hoping to win Elsa's hand in marriage in attempt to mend the bond between the 2 kingdoms. That's why he's here in this chapter.***

 **Without further ado, Chapter 35:**

Elsa leaned back in her favorite chair in the castle library, with a book in hand. She had just finished her work for the day, and was planning to do a little bedtime reading. A few feet away, Henrik Jr slept soundly in a little wooden bassinet that Kristoff had built. Elsa reached out to softly rock the cradle, before settling down to read.

She had hardly made it past the first page, when the door opened. There stood Prince Conrad of the Southern Isles, with a huge bouquet of pink roses.

The seventh Westergard cleared his throat grandiosely. "I'm sorry to disturb you Elsa, but I wanted to bring you something very special. Kai tells me that pink roses are your favorite. Consider it a gift... a token of gratitude for your gracious pardoning of the Southern Isles, in light of the recent disaster with Hans and Henrik."

Elsa smiled and tucked the flowers into an empty vase. "Thank you. They're beautiful." It was true. Pink roses _were_ her favorite.

The red-haired man leaned in closer and tucked a single rose behind her ear. "Not as beautiful as you, snowflake."

"Excuse me?"

The seventh Prince of the Southern Isles clarified his remark. "You're so beautiful, Elsa. A woman like you only deserves the very best. Allow me to present my case as your prospective consort."

Elsa set down her book. "That's very sweet of you. But I'm afraid I must decline. You see, Brian and I are already courting."

The Prince raised his eyebrows in confusion. "But Elsa, he's a doctor. Brilliant as he may be in his field of expertise, he has little or no political knowledge. Besides, wouldn't you agree that he is lacking in the refinement and suave needed to play the part of King?"

"I'm sure Brian will learn in no time at all." Elsa corrected him gently. She extended a hand to give the sleeping Henrik Jr a soothing pat on the back. "Let's not talk about Brian behind his back. Why don't we focus on his positive traits instead?"

The seventh Westergard would not be so easily deterred. "But does Brian have _the right kind_ of positive traits? He isn't exactly the paragon of courage and decisiveness, if you know what I mean. Do you really think having Brian Helmholtz on the throne would be beneficial to Arendelle's international reputation?"

Elsa raised a finger to her lips. "The baby is sleeping," she whispered, gesturing vaguely towards Henrik Jr. "Let's try to keep our voices down."

"Right, sorry." He drew a deep breath and continued, "You and I both know the truth. Henrik destroyed their kingdom out of selfish greed, not out of justice. The blame rests solely on Henrik, not Brian. In a perfect world, people would judge impartially. But the world isn't perfect. It may not be fair or logical, but the fact remains that people ARE going to associate Brian with the destruction of his own kingdom. Think about it. Do you think he could make tough decisions? Stand up to scrutiny and be able to endure criticism? Exercise good leadership? Heck, does Brian even know how to swing a sword or shoot a crossbow? Can he even ride a horse? Could he even kill a mosquito without breaking his nails?"

The Snow Queen was liking this man less and less with every passing moment. But she had to remain courteous. "Brian may not be so handy with a sword or crossbow, but he is the King of the Scalpel. He uses his weapons to heal, not to kill. And that's what I love about him."

Prince Conrad was getting more and more persistent. "A fat lot of good that will do! Elsa, I know you are attracted by high intelligence. I'd expect nothing less from someone who possesses more intelligence and maturity than most people twice her age. But here's the problem. _Brian doesn't have the right kind of intelligence_! Brian has no backbone whatsoever, can't put his foot down, can't stand up for anything, doesn't have the heart or the passion or anything that—"

"Please," Elsa urged again. "Keep your voice down." Henrik Jr was beginning to stir in his sleep. The red-haired man stopped his tirade, but Elsa had no desire to continue this conversation.

"I think I'm going to retire for the evening. Good night, Prince Conrad." Elsa rose to her feet and began heading for the door, with Joseph's sleeping form in her arms. But she had hardly taken a single step, before the seventh Westergard bounded across the room to block her path.

"Elsa, wait! Listen to me. I'm _nothing_ like Hans or Henrik. NOTHING! Please, just give me a chance!"

"The answer is still no. We can be friends or acquaintances or business partners, but I'd appreciate if you'd stop asking for more than that, and _please stop shouting_." Elsa tried to step around him, but he quickly stepped in front of her again. The Snow Queen covered Henrik Jr's ears with her hands, anticipating another loud and clamorous tirade from the seventh Prince of the Southern Isles.

"But Elsa, I'm not asking you. I'm _imploring_ you to reconsider! You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Brian Helmholtz is bad news! Trust me, I have known him ever since he was six years old. He will drive your kingdom into a ditch, the same way—"

Brian's voice interrupted from down the hall. "Elsa sweetie, I just bought some chocolates from the market! They're your favorite!"

Before anyone could utter another sound, Brian stepped into the room with a neatly-wrapped package in hand, beaming from ear to ear. But when he noticed that Elsa wasn't alone, his gaze hardened and his jaw clenched. In long purposeful strides, Brian marched forward and wrapped a protective arm around Elsa's waist. He glared menacingly at the seventh Westergard. "Is there a problem here?"

The Southern Isles Prince raised both hands in the air. "No, I was just leaving."

As the room emptied, Brian walked Elsa back to the library sofa and sat by her side. "He won't bother you anymore, snowflake." Elsa smiled and leaned in closer to him.

Brian's eye fell on the bundle of blankets in her arms. "You really do love this child," he remarked.

"I do," Elsa confessed. "But Brian, this doesn't mean I love you any less. This child is all alone in the world. Just like Anna and myself were for thirteen years. Just like Hans was for almost his entire life. This little guy needs a place to call home."

Brian plopped down on the couch and wrapped an arm around Elsa's shoulders. "I'll never understand why you are so kind to the Westergards, when you could be blowing them off the map with one-tenth the effort. But that is who you are. And that is why I love my Frosty so much."

Elsa smiled and snuggled closer into Brian's embrace. "A soft answer turns away wrath."

"Huh?"

"A soft answer turns away wrath," Elsa repeated. "If we strike back, so will they, and it'll never end. But if we turn the other cheek, we can defuse their aggression. Chances are they will be too ashamed to strike another blow. Anyone with any decency will stop attacking when they see that the other party is refusing to fight back."

Elsa cuddled Henrik Jr to her chest. "And keeping the peace is much better than winning a fight or having the last word."

* * *

 _A few weeks later…_

The royal chefs whistled merrily as they wheeled barrel after barrel full of ripe apples and peaches into the kitchen, in preparation for the Spring Banquet. They instantly got to work peeling and cooking, getting ready to make cider. Before long, the entire castle was full of the heavenly aroma of fresh fruit and mint leaves.

Soon they were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal. The chefs glanced up to see Elsa standing in the doorway, with Henrik Jr in her arms. The red-haired infant babbled incessantly and waved his chubby little hands vigorously in the direction of the fruity fragrance.

Elsa smiled warmly at the chefs. "It smells delightful in here!" Joseph cooed in agreement.

Kai nodded enthusiastically. "Only the best for the Spring Banquet!" He extended a wooden spoon full of mashed fruit and brown sugar towards Henrik Jr. The baby licked greedily and squealed with delight. He yanked the spoon out of Kai's hand, and continued to gnaw at it. Now ten months old, little Joseph was as active as ever. With just a few seconds of inattention, he could escape from his mother and dive into a world of mischief. Nothing and nobody was safe from his curious little hands and voracious gums.

The older man patted him on the cheek. "You like it?" Kai crouched down until he was eye-level with Henrik Jr, and spoke in a grandfatherly tone. "Well, I'll tell you what. How would you like to stay and help us make the rest of the delicious cider? And ice cream? And pie? When it is all done, you'll get the first and biggest piece!" Henrik Jr nearly jumped out of Elsa's arms in excitement.

Elsa quickly steadied her grip. "Kai, that's so sweet of you. But maybe it's best that we just stay on the side and watch. The little rascal does have the propensity to get into trouble."

The head chef patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. Give yourself a well-earned rest. I'm sure our little Joey will behave himself just fine. After all, any child can be a perfect little angel when desserts are at stake." He gave a jocular wink. "Even Princess Anna." The rest of the kitchen chuckled heartily.

Elsa nuzzled her cheek against the top of Joseph's head. "What do you say, snowflake? Do you promise to be a good little helper?" The baby cooed in assent.

"All right, then." Elsa handed a squirming Henrik Jr to Kai. "I'll be in the parlor if you need anything."

Kai let the effervescent child back into the castle kitchen, which was now completely inundated by the mouthwatering fruity fragrance. Elsa retreated down the hall and listened from afar. She could hear the chefs oohing and aahing over his cuteness. Henrik Jr giggled with delight as they entertained him with silly faces and affectionate gestures. What a happy child he was! Elsa continued to linger, completely lost in her own mind. A dreamy expression crossed her features. The more she basked in the joyous sounds and delightful smells that emanated from the kitchen, the more vindicated and sure she felt.

Three months ago, she had committed to adopting Henrik Jr and raising him as her own. At the time, she wasn't sure she was making the best choice. Her heart was certain, but her head was vacillating. Her heart was wholly invested, but her head was fraught with concerns and uncertainties. But now there was no such dissonance. Her mind was now convinced of what her heart had known all along. Seeing how deeply everyone adored little Joseph made Elsa all the more confident in her decision to make this boy her son. She would never regret keeping him.

Brian's voice suddenly broke through her ruminations. "A penny for your thoughts."

Elsa looked up to see him standing by her side. "Isn't it wonderful?" she nodded vaguely in the direction of the kitchen, smiling blissfully.

"It is," Brian agreed. "It smells delicious. I can hardly wait another ten minutes."

Elsa playfully acted the part of the scolding mother. "Well young man, it looks like you'll just have to be patient and wait until tonight!"

Brian punched her shoulder affectionately. "Who says we can't sneak in there and help ourselves first? I'm sure nobody will notice if we lick a few spoons. Besides, who's to say Anna hasn't beat us to it already?"

Elsa took him by the hand. "Well, continuing to stand around isn't going to make the clock tick any faster. Why don't we go do something to pass time? A game of chess? Or maybe you could teach me how to throw a ball again? We could also head into town and go see the—"

"There she is!"

Elsa and Brian turned around. There, exiting the kitchen and toddling towards them with his face and shirt a sticky mess of fruit, was baby Joseph with Kai holding his hand. The red-haired infant was cooing and babbling happy. As he caught sight of his mother, he squealed with delight and picked up his pace.

"Go on Joey," Kai urged gently. "Show Mommy what you made." The grandfatherly older man handed Henrik Jr a small dish of the syrupy confection they had made. The child beamed at Elsa and Brian.

Elsa crouched down to his level. "Is that for me, snowflake?" The infant let out a high-pitched squeak.

"I take that as a yes." Elsa dipped the little spoon into the goo, and slipped it into her mouth. Instantly, her senses were inundated with the delightful fragrance of peaches, apples, maple syrup and mint leaves, mingling to form a syncretic burst of sugary euphoria. But nothing was sweeter than that bright smile on her child's face.

"Oh snowflake, it's delicious! What a great little chef you are! Here Brian, you have to try some!"

The royal physician hesitated. He reached out to take the dish from Elsa, but his hand faltered. His eyes flitted back and forth between Elsa, Kai, and that red-haired child who wasn't even a year old yet, but was already a spitting image of his father.

"Go ahead," Kai pressed. "It's a labor of love."

Brian shrugged as he swallowed a mouthful of the fruity syrup. Elsa wasn't lying—it _was_ delicious. He couldn't help smiling, and suddenly he felt embarrassed and contrite about his earlier hesitation. The doctor reached down and patted Henrik Jr's wispy auburn hair. "Thank you, little guy. It really was delicious." The baby beamed with pride. For the first time in forever, Brian smiled at him.

But more than one first would be achieved on that momentous day. Amidst all the frenzied activity transpiring in his ten-month-old brain, as little Joseph tried to learn and make sense of the great big confusing world he lived in, one vital piece of information stood out above the rest. Of all the sights and sounds and smells that he encountered every day, one had become a permanent part of his consciousness.

The child who was once a Westergard opened his tiny mouth to utter his first word. A single, unmistakable sound.

"Mama."

Elsa stopped and froze. "What did you say, snowflake?"

Henrik Jr stared deeply into those big blue eyes. Slowly and deliberately, with greater conviction, he repeated himself. "Mama."

Then he toddled over to Brian and hugged him around the ankle. "Papa."

Brian nearly dropped the dish he was holding. All he could do was stare in dumbfounded wonder at the wide-eyed baby, and the baby stared back. As they locked eyes, Henrik Jr grabbed one of Brian's hands. The chubby little fingers wrapped themselves tightly around his thumb. Beneath the warm touch, Brian could feel a shuddering spasm of catharsis pulsing through his body. The strange sensation nearly brought him to his knees.

Like the mighty glaciers of the North Mountain, a heart frozen solid by fear and self-loathing could only be thawed with an inordinate amount of time and patience. But now the deed was done. The curse was broken. The pain of the past washed away by the tides of healing and liberation. Never again would Henrik haunt his nightmares. So all Brian could do was hoist the auburn-haired, green-eyed infant into his arms. "I love you too, snowflake."

* * *

"Brian, were are we going?" Elsa ran to catch up with Brian as they reached the outskirts of the kingdom, and began crossing through a grassy meadow.

The royal physician smiled cryptically. "You'll find out very soon. I have a special surprise for you."

Winter had gone and spring had come. The field was a dazzling kaleidoscope of wildflowers, and the air inundated with a delicate floral fragrance. The sun shone bright in the sapphire sky, reducing what had been mounds of snow into puddles of slush.

"Are we there yet?" Elsa pressed eagerly.

"Patience, Frosty!" Brian teased. "If Anna is feisty-pants, then you're whiny-pants."

The sound of bubbling water resonated in the distance. Brian smiled knowingly. "Almost there."

Soon they arrived at the edge of a lake. A wooden rowboat was harnessed on the end of a dock. Brian gave Elsa a courtly smile as he helped her aboard. Then he seized the oars and began to row. Without a sound, boat began to glide smoothly across the sleek, cool, immaculately clear water.

"I think it's time." Brian reached below his seat to retrieve a large burlap sack. He tugged open the drawstring to reveal what lay inside. Elsa peered into the dark interior, and could faintly discern the outlines of what seemed to be several rather large stones.

Brian cleared his throat and spoke in a soft, tender voice. His eyes were deep and somber as he gazed intently into her face. "My darling precious Frosty, we have come such a long way to be together to day. Just as we were meant to be. The stones in this bag tell the story of how we came to be. But more importantly, they tell the story of my love for you."

Brian reached into the sack and retrieved a black stone. He set it gently on the empty bench that stood between himself and Elsa. "My heart was dark with rage, resentment, self-pity... and most of all fear. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear that people wouldn't love me, respect me, or pay attention to me. Fear of being exposed for the coward and impostor I was. I walked in utter darkness, with no hope of deliverance. What hope was there for a miserable wretch as I?"

The boat continued its trajectory across the lake. High over heads, a chorus of birds chirped obliviously as they darted to and fro. Brian dipped his hand into the bag once more, and pulled out a red stone. "Love. When I forgot how to love myself, I also forgot how to love the people around me. Elsa, you taught me how to love again. You taught me that love is sacrifice. Love is putting others first. When you are motivated by love, even the greatest burden becomes a pleasure. Love isn't easy, comfortable, or fair... but that's what makes it love."

With watery eyes and a grateful smile, Brian set the red stone next to the black one. "Elsa, you took this cold, hostile heart full of enmity towards self and others... and filled it with love. For that, I can never thank you enough."

Elsa was fighting back her own tears, and was blushing furiously. "Oh Brian, don't say that about yourself. You give me so much credit, but you hardly give yourself any…"

They sailed a little further in silence, until they reached the middle of the lake. The water was getting deeper and darker. Brian reached into the sack for a third time, and emerged with a white stone in hand. "When you showed me that you loved me, I was finally at peace. All the wretchedness of the past had left a hideous dark stain upon the moral fabric of my life... but with love and forgiveness it was washed whiter than snow." Brian reached forward to set the white stone next to the red one.

"Love will thaw," Elsa whispered. She patted his hand lovingly. "And love will heal." A gentle spring breeze fluttered across the lake.

Next, an orange stone emerged from the bag, and joined its predecessors in the lineup. The four stones stood proud and majestic, immovable in their austere glory. Brian continued his monologue, "It would be nice if the story ended here. But it is through trial and tribulation that a relationship is proven true. The same way the refiner's fire purifies metal by burning away all that is phony or impure. The same way it sharpens a sword. Elsa, we were tried and tested in the furnace of adversity... and here we are today, stronger and purer than ever before."

As the boat neared the distant shore, Brian prepared to disembark. Clusters of reeds dotted the shoreline, no doubt housing a myriad of nesting waterfowl. Brian emptied the bag, and a green stone tumbled into his lap. "Fire destroys and kills, but it also gives opportunity to new life. Sometimes the old self must be burned away, in order for the new self to flourish. We must never grow complacent, never become stagnant, never stop learning and improving, never delude ourselves into thinking that the status quo is 'good enough already.'" Brian folded up the empty bag, and tucked it under his seat. "It is never easy to change the way you are... but continuing to grow is the only way to stay alive."

With a gentle bump that left the five stones unshaken, the boat bumped against the shoreline. Elsa was nearly breathless as she marveled at the artistic masterpiece that has just transpired before her very eyes. Who knew that the scholarly, scientific Doctor Helmholtz could be so poetic? "Brian…" her voice choked. "I don't know what to say… that was beautiful." She wiped away a tear.

Brian rose to his feet with a cryptic smile. "The best part of this story is that it's not over yet. In fact, it's only begun." He helped Elsa to her feet, as the pair disembarked and began hiking towards a homely wooden gazebo that stood on the outskirts of the forest.

Sitting on a dainty, delicate little table in the gazebo was a lonely golden stone. It sparked and glistened radiantly in the blazing afternoon sunshine. Smiling from ear to ear, Brian cradled it to his chest and walked slowly towards Elsa. "My precious darling Frosty, my love for you takes me out of time and space. Every time I look into your face and lose myself in adoration of you... I feel like I'm experiencing a little piece of heaven. I love you so much, Elsa. And I always will."

Brian dropped to one knee, and laid the golden stone gently in Elsa's awaiting hands. "My dear Frosty, will you be the Queen of my heart?"

Tears sprang to Elsa's bright cerulean eyes and she leapt forward to sweep him into a crushing embrace. "I will."

 **There we have it! Brian and Elsa are officially getting married!**


End file.
